Two Wolves and a Lady
by FreelySheRoams
Summary: Aaron Hotchner has set his sights on Penelope Garcia. There's only one problem – Derek Morgan, doesn't like to share. What's a Tech Goddess going to do, when both men compete to woo her? Warnings: Sexual Situations & Coarse Language.
1. Prologue

**Please read authors note! =)**

 **A/N I do not own Criminal Minds, I am only borrowing them. This is just a naughty story that my Muse has been itching to write. Though this story will mainly deal with the pursuit of a woman by two men, there will be sexual adult situations involving main characters together. I will always be respectful in my writing, though I realize this might be a little naughtier (I'm not intending for crazy, but hopefully something with a little more sizzle and yes there will be a plot) then what people might normally like to read, so if this is not your thing – for I do not wish to offend, please do not read. (Perhaps check out one of my other stories instead or many of the other amazing works on this site!)**

 **Obviously this story will be slightly AU. This is really just for fun, and I can't wait to see where it goes. I have plenty of ideas, though if anyone wants to suggest anything that they would like to read, please feel free to leave me a PM or something in the Review section, and I'll gladly see what I can do. (If you're shy, a guest review will work too!) Thanks for reading!**

 **Story Warning: Sexual Situations & Coarse Language**

 **Please Enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Prologue:

Exuding a deceptively casual persona, the man – whose eyes never stopped scanning the room for disturbances, swirled the whiskey around in the tumbler before taking a rather large swig.

His black suit jacket was off and neatly folded over the back of his stool – the seat that allowed him the best view of the room. Most of the team had slowly disappeared as the night wore on, not that it mattered considering the reason he came out tonight was standing across the room ordering another drink.

Selfishly he hadn't offered to get it for her, desperately wanting to watch the sway of her perfectly round ass walk away. The tight grey pencil skirt with the sparse blue and green pattern was like a second skin on her. It didn't help that this skirt had a slit on the side, giving him the prefect peek-a-boo of her knee cap and upper leg while she walked – causing him to wonder if she wore a garter belt with those stockings.

Glancing quickly towards the dance floor, which was still jammed packed with people, it only took but a moment to spot the darker man as he grooved the night away with four other women. Each of the ladies danced around him like a compass and he could only shake his head at how easy the other man had made it for him.

You shouldn't leave something as precious as Penelope Garcia alone for too long, after all. Swigging the rest of his drink he got up and headed towards his prize.

He couldn't help the smirk that graced the corner of his lips as he watched her twirl a golden lock of hair around her perfectly manicured fingers. She had forgone the typical bright color polish and had done a simple French tip, something he had to admit, drove him crazy.

Garcia was standing with her legs crossed in those bright pink, peep toed heels – the cute ones with the buckle around her ankle, elbows resting on the high counter – making her ass arch out as she leaned forward. Aaron felt the stirrings of arousal when the vision of her – with her head pressed face down into the mattress, his fingers digging into her hips as he drove into her wet heat from behind – flashed in his mind.

Of course, not only was she completely oblivious to the affects her sensuality was causing her boss, but also the table of men behind her. The curvaceous blonde Goddess making the stoic alpha male growl as he watched one of the men from the rowdy group, get up and sidle along next to her.

Taking an empty bar stool – two seats down, with her back facing him – Aaron's dark brooding eyes, watched intently.

He knew Penelope was more than capable of taking care of herself, but tonight – having been her birthday celebration, she had allowed herself the luxury of drinking more than she normally would. Usually the Mother Hen of the group, her teammates had watched in amusement as she joked and flitted around their table – the consummate life of the party. Now however, in the company of a drunk stranger, he avidly scrutinized her body language – stalking the pair like a wolf.

The music in the club was loud, though the snippets of their conversation he could hear, had him rolling in his eyes in pity – the poor young man didn't have a clue how to seduce the BAU's 'Tech Kitten'. He figured it wouldn't be long, for the idiot to fuck up.

Having ordered another whiskey – he sat, sipping the strong beverage…and waited.

The moment the other man reached out a hand, tucking a golden curl behind her ear – Aaron's eyes narrowed. When the man took a step closer, invading her personal space, trapping her between the stool and bar counter – his body tensed. Though once the man grabbed her hip, fingers clenching above the swell of her ass – he pounced.

"Come on…Sugar Tits!" the drunkard slurred as he ogled her chest. "Let's take this back to my place."

"She can't," his gruff, booming voice catching the pair by surprise – enabling him to grip the younger man's wrist – applying the right amount of pressure for him to tear his arm away from her hip. Aaron, then slid his arm firmly around her waist, her body tensing at first – only to relax as he pulled her closer to him. "Since she's with me."

"Hotch!" Penelope stared at her boss, bright hazel eyes confused behind those pink feminine frames.

"What kind of name is that," the idiot snickered besides them.

"Ner!" she giggled, hand coming up to delicately pat Aaron's chest. "It's Hotch-Ner!" tossing a glare at the other man.

"You can go," taking Penelope's fruity drink, with the pink umbrella she always insisted on having – he took a sip, eyes narrowing as he peered over the martini glass.

"It's his last name!" she exclaimed suddenly, needing to clarify – giggling, when neither man said anything – only to snatch her drink back, and quickly finish it off.

Hotch wasn't the type of man who chuckled – smirking instead at the alluring woman next to him. Having known Garcia for years, he knew she wasn't drunk – just adorably tipsy.

"Thanks for keeping her company," his gesture of kindness was insincere, and they all knew it. Scowling at the agents, the man gave up and finally walked away – though the threat was gone, Hotch didn't move.

Tucking her closer to him, his thumb gently rubbed circles against her hip – he watched her eyes widen and her cheeks bloom that familiar rosy hue.

"He's gone now," looking up at him, a coy smile gracing those plump glossy lips.

"So?" his flippant response, had her arching a brow – shocked at his boldness – but perhaps, _intrigued?  
_

"Aaron," came her breathy response.

He leaned forward, lips barely touching her ear. "I want to dance," clutching her hip – molding the soft flesh. "With you."

She pulled back, shaking her head. "Oh, I don't-…" something in his eyes stopped her – _he wasn't asking._

Taking a step back, giving her mind a moment to race with doubt – waiting for that naughty, brazen Goddess of hers to appear. He watched as she bit her lip, hesitating – eyes darting wildly across the room until they landed on the darker man – still dancing underneath the flashing lights. Something, flashed across her face – lust, longing… _love_ – though she quickly blinked it away and he allowed his body to tingle with anticipation, when she finally smiled and reached for his hand.

Leading her through the crowd of dancing bodies, he found a spot off to the side. Wringing her hands as she stood in front of him – watching everyone else move around them. He had seen her perform in a few plays, oozing an abundance of confidence – he knew she could damn well dance, he was certain of it.

Grabbing her arm, he quickly twirled her so her back was to his front – entwining his hands with one of hers, resting his arm across her waist, pushing her flush with his groin. She froze and he growled, sliding his other hand down her side he gripped her hip and started moving – setting a rhythm that forced her to grind against him.

She awkwardly fumbled for a few moments, until his hand – wrapped around her front, glided further up her blouse until it rested below her breasts – gently rubbing his thumb beneath the cups of her bra, coaxing her to relax.

By the time the next song came on – she was dancing.

* * *

Walking off the dance floor, he avoided the women who were grinning at him – silently inviting him over, to order another beer instead. Making it back to their table he plopped down on the stool, confused to find it empty, even though Hotch's coat and Garcia's purse were still there.

Scanning the bar, he didn't see them. Taking a thick napkin off the table, he patted down his face – he wouldn't admit it, but the reason he danced was because he enjoyed knowing she was there. Realizing she had missed his little birthday gift to her – she loved to watch, as much as he loved her watching – he huffed in disappointment. He had worked up quite a sweat keeping up with those four ladies – his sore ears still ringing from their obnoxious squealing.

He was getting too old for this shit.

Taking a huge swig of the bitter brew, he scanned the room again. Not spotting them near the bar, or other tables – knowing both of them never danced, he started to worry. Chasing down criminals for a living, his mind began to imagine all sorts of horrible scenarios.

That is, until a flash of hot pink caught his attention.

Standing up, he willed the crowd to part – waiting to catch another glimpse of that blouse. The moment he did, he almost swallowed his tongue.

Shocked, he could only stare.

And stare some more, frozen to the spot.

Growling, he slammed his drink down.

 _What…the…fuck_!

Out in the middle of the dance floor, he watched in horror as his boss grinded against… _his Baby Girl._

Penelope Miss Oh-I-can't-dance Garcia, was rolling those thick hips and perky round ass into his groin – arm flung back around his neck, eyes closed – completely keeping rhythm. That tight, hot pink blouse, with the plunging neckline – flaunting those large impressive tits, as they bounced to the music. Though that image had his blood rushing to his member, flaring it to life with that familiar painful arousal he only had when he was around her – it was Hotch who had him seething.

One hand gripping her hip, underneath her blouse – yet it was his other hand that Derek was going to rip off, as he watched him trail it up and down her side – from the soft curve of her waist to the side of her breast.

Derek's body was thrumming with tension – as he watched Aaron leisurely lift his face away from the crook of her neck, the sly little smirk causing his jaw to tick. An alpha male knew when he was being challenged – his boss pawing his _mate_ …now that, was a threat.

Catching each others eyes from across the room – he was going to shoot the fucker when he winked.

Though that was all it took to make him charge back to the dance floor.

* * *

 _Oh, Garcie what did you do?_

Her head was spinning, and even though her eyes were closed – the sunlight from her open window was making her nauseous.

She stretched her arms above her head, trying to work the kinks out of her body. _And boy, was it sore, it practically ached!_

The remnants of her dream floated around her mind in hazy pieces – fusing her cheeks with a blush. Mustering up energy she finally sat up, shocked to discover her bare chest – the cool air of her apartment, pebbling her nipples. Going to reach for her glasses on the nightstand, she heard a grunt.

A very manly grunt. Right next to her. Holding her breath, she had yet to look.

 _Oh Microsoft! You brought a stranger home, Garcie!_

Finally looking over, she spotted a leg – bent, and sticking out from underneath her polka dotted comforter. Scanning the rest of the bed, to find his head underneath her fuzzy purple pillow – leaning closer, she was about to gently remove it, when a loud crunch from her doorway startled her.

Spinning around – she nearly screamed. Her vision was blurry, but there was no mistaking her best friend – her very naked, very aroused, Hot Stuff.

Taking another bite out of the apple, he smirked. "Mornin', Baby Girl!"

Her brain had yet to recover the use of speech – probably because her tongue was still drooling over the sight of his sculpted abs, strong lean thighs and…that erection.

 _How the hell did he walk around with that thing?_

Feeling movement next to her, she yelped in surprise. Jumping out of bed, she tried to stand – only to trip over a pair of jeans and tumble to the floor.

"Oh, Princess!" Derek's husky voice floated over to her, eyes flashing with – _lust…_ nostrils flaring as he devoured her with his eyes – only then did she remember she was naked.

Screaming, she yanked on her comforter – forgetting the other man was wrapped around it. Standing she frantically pulled and tugged, yanking once more only for the man to move suddenly – sending her flying back down with the colorful material.

Rolling around underneath the blanket, until she had it wrapped around her, she sat back up – only to sputter when she caught sight of her stockings, firmly tied around her headboard.

"You need…to go!" she stammered. He had taken a few steps towards her, and she was ashamed that she couldn't tear her eyes off his member – the thick shaft swaying like a palm tree in the wind. "Put on clothes first…and then go…please!"

Derek chuckled. "What about Hotch?"

"What?" she panted. She hadn't heard her phone ring – _when did they get a case?_

"Hello, Garcia," his gruff voice called to her.

She snapped her eyes closed, body flushing from hot too cold in an instant.

Looking back towards her bed, she discovered her boss – propped up on his elbow as he leaned over her bed, staring down at her.

He too, was only wearing a smirk.

 _Oh, was she in trouble._

To be continued…


	2. I:I

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. I just want to thank you all for your kind reviews and to thank those who have favorited or followed! Thanks for reading!**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter 1: Part I

Her body was tingling with the memory of arousal.

Little pinwheels of desire still coursing through her veins – to the bite mark that pulsed against the base of her neck – to her chafed nipples, taut; begging to be touched and breasts peppered with blemishes; raw from being suckled – to her swollen core, still heated, aching and clenching with need.

The two cocky smirks and twinkling sets of eyes staring back at her – told her what her mind and heart were trying to deny – Penelope Garcia, was feeling…thoroughly well fucked.

The constant crunch of Derek chopping on his apple – the last apple from the fruit basket in the kitchen, one she wanted to eat later with her favorite creamy peanut butter – was irritating her already flustered nerves. Glaring at him when he waggled those defined brows as he used the back of his wrist to wipe away the juices that had dribbled down those full pouty lips and pointed jaw.

She was about to complain to him about stealing, when the rustling of objects grabbed her attention. Peeling her eyes away from the dark sculpted body of her shameless best friend only to discover her equally brazen boss digging around the drawer of her nightstand.

A heated blush infused her cheeks; eyes widening and mouth falling open – when she watched Aaron, a giant grin plastered on his usually stoic face, hold up her shiny purple bullet. Fumbling with it for a minute, he clicked it on – the soft vibrating hum filling the quiet room.

"Oh, sexy Mama?" Derek chided from her doorway. "You lied to us."

"I wish I could have used this on you last night, Penelope." The use of her first name, added with the fact that Hotch was now running the toy across his palm – sliding it up one stubby finger, where it buzzed against the tip – had her blushing profusely and babbling words that made little sense even to herself.

She needed to ask Reid if you could actually die from embarrassment – that was of course, if she survived this morning.

Completely mortified – she stood, yanking the toy out of his hands and stormed into her bathroom – locking it for good measure before she could do anything else to humiliate herself, like listen to her newly awakened inner Goddess and fuck them, again.

 _Maybe, this was actually part of her dream!_

"You can't hide in there forever, Baby Girl." Derek cooed after her.

 _Frack!_ Pounding the back of her head against the door. _Think, Garcie, think!_

"Go away!" she cried.

Head cocked to the side she listened, sighing with relief when all she heard was silence. Taking a deep breath to settle the coiling tension which had pitted itself low in her gut – seeping out as sticky heat against her upper thigh, she dared to look at herself in the mirror.

 _Yikes!_

Penelope's face was an image of her debauchery – smeared mascara, faded purple and pink eyeshadow, blonde locks in a tangled curly mess, and puffy kissed bruised lips – though she should be ashamed, she couldn't help but notice her body was glowing with pride.

 _35! And you still got it Garcie!_

She looked back at the door, wondering what her two – did she call them, lovers – were doing.

Turning her shower on, she let the steam relax her aching muscles. Dropping the colorful comforter, she stepped beneath the hot spray of water – wanting to wash away the events of the night only for her mind to drift down memory lane.

* * *

 __ Flashback: Night Club __

The strong bass of the music pulsed through her body like a heartbeat – forcing her hips to roll back and forth – to grind harder into the solid man behind her, his fingers digging into her flesh was the only thing binding her to reality.

Her arm was flung back around him – fingers tugging on the surprisingly soft chestnut hair at the nape of his neck.

Aaron's hand glided up over the flair of her hip and the curve of her waist, resting beneath the swell of her breast – as if he was about to strike a match against her body.

Feeling another pair of arms wrap around her from the front, one hand gripping her ass while the other took her free hand and threw it over his shoulder – startled, she snapped her eyes open; letting out a small gasp, when she looked into the dark amber eyes of Derek Morgan.

She would have stopped – feeling suddenly overwhelmed, but Hotch wouldn't allow it. His hot breath tickled her neck as he nibbled on the lobe of her ear.

"Keep dancing, Penelope," his voice – gruff and demanding, whispered to her like a soft caress.

Meanwhile, Derek's muscled thigh had found its way between her parted legs – forcing her to grind back into Aaron's groin and thrust forward up Derek's leg – the rough denim against her silk covered skin was beyond tantalizing.

Then, as if her body wasn't already overheating, the man behind her latched onto the skin at the pulse point of her neck – nibbling with his teeth only to soothe the flesh as he suckled with his lips and tongue.

Her eyes drifted closed, head flinging back to rest in the crook of Aaron's neck and shoulder – the hypnotic spell she was under had her skin prickling in anticipation.

Not to be outdone, the darker man in front leaned closer, his large hand forcing her face upwards as he melded his lips to hers. Feeling him tug on her plump bottom lip with those pearly whites she loved so much – nipping at it, only to pull away – giving her the softest of kisses, silently asking for permission.

Parting her lips, he growled before he speared his tongue into her mouth. The velvety wet muscle massaged against her own tongue, plunging and searing – hand gripping below her jaw – forcing her head further back, and her mouth to open wider.

The intimate dance was scorching her body with arousal – feeling heavy as she ached with the longing to be completely consumed, wanting to be devoured – her core, grasping and quivering – begging to be filled.

The moment Derek's full lips suckled on her tongue, imitating what he could do between her legs with that glorious mouth of his, she whimpered – throwing both her arms around him, pulling his head closer.

She was light-headed – mind floating through a liquor induced, lust fueled haze. A hand – whose? She couldn't tell, cupped the front of her breast – thumb gliding back and forth over her nipple, which were now peeking through the thin cotton of her blouse.

The minute her sensitive bud was rolled between his fingers she gasped, eyes flying open – music flooding her ears, flashing lights blinding her vision – a harsh reminder that they were very much in a public place.

She froze, glancing around like a startled deer – panic dousing her overheated body with cold shameful remorse.

It took a good minute to pull and twist away from both men – neither having sensed the dramatic shift in her mood, knocking people over as she ran off the dance floor, stumbling out of the club a moment later.

 _Oh, Garcie!_

The crisp night air felt calming against her heated flesh – wrapping her arms around herself, seeking comfort from the shock of having practically humped and grinded two very important men in her life.

One man, being someone she has been pining after for years – her best friend, her sweet and loving Angelfish, her sculpted and brave, Hot Stuff. The other man – her boss, whose authority and tenacious demeanor has had her drooling with infatuation since the day he hired her.

Both extremely male and powerful, handsome and strong – _And, Oh God! She practically fucked them on the dance floor!_

The panic resurfaced – crushing her chest with anxiety. She was just about to start counting her breathing when an arm wrapped around her waist and guided her towards the parking lot.

Her frazzled state of mind had her on alert, until the familiar woodsy scent of Derek filled the air and she calmed. Looking forward she caught sight of Aaron, her bright orange and yellow purse with fuchsia flowers held stiffly in his hand, black coat tucked underneath his arm, keys to the SUV dangling in his other hand.

The sudden realization that she hadn't drove tonight and was about to leave her belongings; purse, cell phone, wallet back inside, caused her to feel even worse – her fragile mood dampening by the second.

The passenger door of the SUV opened and she halted, digging her heels into the broken gravel of the parking lot.

"Get inside, Baby Girl," Derek's husky voice cooed from behind.

She shook her head, mouth suddenly dry – eyes catching Aaron sitting behind the wheel, looking back at her with pure unadulterated desire. Taking a step back, only to fuse against Derek's front, his sizable erection brushing against the curve of her ass – large hands gripping her hips to steady her.

"Penelope," Aaron growled. "Let's go."

The remnants of her arousal flamed back to life in an instant – the Goddess on her shoulder jumping with glee, encouraging her to fulfill that dark sinful fantasy of hers.

 _It is your birthday, Garcie. Live a little._

Taking a deep breath, she buckled herself in.

 __ End of Flashback_ _

* * *

Penelope threw on her red silk floral robe and clipped her wet locks behind her head – emerging from the bathroom in cleaner – but still rather confused spirits. Deciding what her body and soul needed was a strong cup of coffee, she headed towards the kitchen to make herself a pot, only to freeze underneath her beaded doorway.

Sitting on her purple couch, legs stretched out in front of him; resting on her cluttered coffee table, was Derek – thankfully sporting his black briefs. The TV was muted as he flipped through the stations – searching for something other than the news to watch.

Aaron was in her kitchen, toned body leaning over the counter in only his slacks, eyes scanning the morning paper – sipping coffee out of her beloved princess mug.

"What the hell are you two doing?" she screeched.

"Reading," Aaron stated, lips pursed in amusement.

"You're out of bacon," Derek accused, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"I don't eat meat," she gritted out, arms crossing in front of her.

"But you always keep bacon here, for when I come over" he groused, turning the TV off.

"You're also out of eggs," Aaron pointed out. "That's what I like to eat for breakfast," smiling at her. "With my toast."

She could only roll her eyes. "I thought you two left."

"Why?" Derek had gotten off the couch, and practically stalked over to her. "The weekends just beginning."

 _What? Did they think they were going to do what they all did last night, again!_ Not that she totally remembered, as her mind was still trying to put together bits and pieces.

Walking past Derek, she scurried behind her couch – gasping when she spotted her torn panties. Picking up the beautiful blue lace bikini bottoms – which had a cost a mini fortune along with the matching bra, she glared daggers at the two.

"Oops." Aaron smirked. "I'll buy you a new pair."

 _When the hell did he even rip them off?_

Her face flushed with heat as the memory came crashing back to her.

 _Oh!_

To be continued…


	3. I:II

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Thank you every one who is reading (favorited, reviewed or followed) this story! I hope my Muse has lived up to all your amazing praises! Once again, I'm open to suggestions on this story, just PM me or leave a review if you have any ideas, and I'll gladly see what I can do!**

 **Warnings: Strong Sexual Situations and Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter I: Part II

* * *

_ _Flashback_ _

The harsh environment of the Sahara desert – heated from the blazing sun and stroked by the stagnant, sweltering breeze; traveling across the barren plateau – was the vision that consumed Penelope's mind.

Her natural instinct; similar to that of an agile gazelle, sprinting away in fear from being hunted and killed by a more dominant and powerful species, like that of a lion, or in this case…by her boss and best friend – was to flee, to turn around; bolt for the door and run, far, far away.

Yet, there she stood, unmoving – between both men – one in front, the other behind her. Their hot, fervid breaths mingling together; filling the cocoon of space – raising the temperature around them.

The tantalizing erotic element of being desired; the sinful pleasure of being devoured, controlled and consumed – mixed with the lingering aroma of liquor, was purely intoxicating.

It was hedonistic in nature; lust at a carnal level – and Penelope became addicted to it

The trio was already in sync with each other; which was altogether dangerous, since not one article of clothing had even been removed – and yet, considering how much trust was already involved from being members of the same team for so long – it was completely expected that their devout loyalty and protective nature would translate so effortlessly into this new affair.

The journey from the SUV to her quaint purple living room had been filled with gentle but firm touches and smoldering looks that had her body thrumming with anticipation, mind racing with fear, and clit pulsing with arousal.

This time Derek was standing behind her – his firm, sculpted body fused perfectly to the back of hers. Those solid, brawn arms were tightly wrapped around her waist – his face tucked into the crook of her neck. That beloved woodsy and spicy fragrance that was Morgan, washed over her; simultaneously calming and exciting her.

His slightly chapped, though full lips – fastened to the erratically beating point against her neck; the hollowed, sensitive space beneath her jaw – nibbling, teeth grazing, only to lick the reddened flesh, and suckle once more.

Aaron stood equally as close – one hand digging into her hip, his other gripping her jaw. His leg was pushed firmly between her thighs, pressing Penelope's ass back into Derek's groin – gently rocking her against his bulge; still encased in denim.

The movement was akin to what they were doing at the night club only a mere hour before. Except this time the flashing strobe lights were replaced with purple glittering beads from the soft glow of her vintage lamp. The loud, bass music was gone – the quiet apartment filled with her shuddering breaths and their heavy pants, creating a beautiful cadence of an intimate dance.

Roughly squeezing her jaw; parting her pouty lips – Aaron didn't wait for permission like Derek, rather he plunged his tongue into her mouth; foraging like a pirate, staking his claim. Tracing her teeth with the velvety muscle – swirling his tongue around hers, only to encase her tongue with his thin; yet smooth lips – greedily sucking, mimicking what he could do at the pulsing nerve between her legs.

Penelope was shivering with need; shooting her arm up, she pushed at Aaron's shoulder – gasping for air as she blinked away the dizzying spell of arousal. The light sheen of sweat across her rosy cheeks, mixed with the humid air of their breaths had caused her glasses to lightly fog up; she bit her lip but couldn't suppress her giggle of excitement.

Both men stopped; holding the plump, ripe woman steady between them. A quick glance between the two men was followed by a lascivious smirk from her boss and a throaty chuckle from her Hot Stuff.

She only had a second to ponder, before Derek slid his large hands from around her waist, up her tummy, until he cupped her heaving chest – lifting her round, ample breasts, before gently rubbing his thumb across her turgid nipples; standing at attention through the thin cotton of her shirt.

One arm flew back; seizing Derek's hip – her other hand, nails digging into Aaron's shoulder, needing to hold on to something before she floated away.

The sharp intake of breath from the stoic man in front of her, made her look up – catching his dark eyes, and then she felt it – the zipper on the back of her tight blouse was slowly being pulled down.

The cool air caressed the heated skin of her back, as Derek held the blouse open – running those long, callused fingers up her spine, fingers gliding under the strap of her bra.

Hotch grabbed the pink material; only to shock her when he didn't tear it away from her body – rather he held the shirt at her shoulders and slowly dragged it down her arms, like he was delicately unwrapping a gift. The fervent stares of the alpha males were palpable; almost as if their fingers were doing the touching – grazing over her exposed skin, inch by glorious inch.

The minute her blouse hit the ground, her mind flooded with doubt – insecurity; her biggest demon. Dousing her arousal in an instant, Penelope's self-preservation kicked in; a reflexive habit that took years to solidify. Standing between two men – whom she often idolized and looked up too, left her feeling emotionally exposed; leaving her confidence pooled against her feet.

Wrapping her arms around her tummy; biting her lip, her hazel eyes darted around the room – seeking any semblance of an escape. The gazelle sprinting through the plateau, lions nipping at its feet, once again flashed through her mind.

Garcia was a control freak by nature. Most people thought her collection of trinkets were just clutter, though every item had a specific spot on her desk, each fluffy pen was coordinated with the vibrant colors of her outfit for the day – standing in her living room she felt trapped and helplessly out of control.

She had been hunted, captured…and the two men were taking their time to devour her.

"Fuck," a gruff voice groaned, only to be drowned out by a whispered. "Beautiful."

Aaron forced himself closer to her, grabbing her wrists – raising them until they were pinned to Derek's broad shoulders. Her eyes shot open when he lowered his head – kissing the swell of the round perky globes, only to press his face between the valley of her breasts. Darting his tongue, he licked from the front – where the little clasp held her lace demi cup bra together; the light blue a stark contrast with her pale skin, only to lick up to her collar bone.

Derek wasted no time snaking his hands into the cups of her bra – pinching and tugging the pebbled nipples only to roll them gently between his thumb and index finger, soothing the sensitive flesh.

Penelope stood; shuddering, little breaths gasping for air, hips grinding back and forth – searching for release.

The ache between her thighs was throbbing, clenching and pulsing with need – forcing her doubt to the back of her mind; the wanton goddess emerging with a vengeance.

Yanking one hand free from his firm grasp, she reached forward; fumbling a moment until she tugged on the belt around Hotch's waist – unclasping it, only to pull it roughly out of the loops.

"Oh, no you don't," he growled, grabbing her wrist – forehead coming to rest on hers.

"But…I..." she murmured.

"What do you want, Baby Girl," Derek licked the shell of her ear, pinching her nipples – her clit pulsed, and she gasped.

 _Oh, heavens!_

"I…please…" licking her dry lips, her vocabulary nonexistent.

Derek's arms wrapped around her waist – lifting her, until they were backed against her antique, green and white paisley armchair. He swiftly sat down, forcing Penelope to sit on his lap.

Her calves rested on the outside of his legs, running his hands down the top of her thighs – he squeezed her kneecaps with the palm of his hands, running soothing circles with his thumbs. Then he opened his legs, spreading her thighs apart – her grey skirt stretched to its limit, constricting her.

Wiggling on Morgan's lap; making him dig his fingers into her hips to keep her still as she tried to get comfortable – reaching for the bottom hem of her skirt, only for Aaron to kneel on the ground in front of their parted legs. His large hands covering her own; locking eyes with each other – he smirked, white teeth flashing; eyes narrowing.

Together they hiked her skirt upwards, bunching the tight material around her waist – exposing her creamy skin and matching lace panties.

Hotch peeled his eyes away from the black sheer thigh highs and stared at the lace material; soaked with arousal and moaned.

Derek slid his fingers under the elastic of her stockings, pulling them away from her thigh only to let it go – snapping it back against her soft flesh, causing her to hiss against the sudden sting – only to blush scarlet as her clit pulsed with pleasure.

The chair wasn't too spacious, needing more room to seize his prize; Aaron tapped Derek's hand. A silent message passed between the two and before Penelope could figure out what was being said, Derek tucked his hands beneath her knees – lifting them, spreading her thighs farther apart as he hooked them over the arms of the chair.

Her ass slipped between the space between Derek's wide legs, his hands pinning her to the chair, and it was then she realized her arms where stuck underneath his – effectively trapping her.

"Hey!" she gasped out.

 _It wasn't fair, she wanted to play too!_

Aaron tutted, glaring at her. "I can smell you from here."

If she wasn't red from embarrassment before, she certainly was flushed with heat now.

One hand gripped her hip, pushing her further into Derek – his other hand reached forward, brushing his knuckles against her sex. The friction sent a shock wave to her system, her hips tried to buck away – only to rub harder into his hand. His thumb pushed roughly at the apex of her thighs, putting pressure right where she needed it.

 _Oh, fuck!_

She whimpered, head falling back onto Derek's shoulder, panting into his neck. It was the only thing she could do, and it was both frustrating and exhilarating.

"Open your eyes, Pretty Mama." Derek's gruff voice coaxed, snapping her stocking against her thighs once more.

Eyes shooting open, she glared at him - only for him to lean closer, capturing her bottom lip with his teeth, sucking the plump flesh into his mouth. Parting her lips, he speared his tongue into the wet depth as they dueled for control.

The sharp, ripping noise of fabric, had Penelope glancing back towards Aaron.

 _Holy frack!_

Shocked as she spotted her torn panties in his hands. "Those were expensive!" she cried.

"And in the way," he grunted, lifting them up to his face – her mouth fell open, when he took in a deep breath; smelling her arousal.

She felt Derek stiffen beneath her, growling – letting one of her legs go, he slid his hand between her legs, cupping the front of her sex; tugging on the trimmed curls.

When he slid a long finger between her slick, swollen folds – she forgot how to breathe. Stopping at her entrance, he swirled the tip of his finger; spreading her wetness. Grinding her hips forward, needing him to alleviate the ache deep within her – only for him to pull away.

She watched his amber eyes, nearly obsidian with need, staring back at her – smirking, he held his finger out towards her, and she pulled away.

"Penelope," Aaron whispered, gravelly voice encouraging her.

Taking a breath, she nodded her head. Derek ran his wet finger across her plump, bottom lip – before sucking the finger into his own mouth, growling with approval. Hesitating but a moment, she licked her lip; shocked at the salty, sweet and yet spicy taste of herself.

"Good girl," the man between her legs rasped out.

Waiting for her eyes to lock with his, he plunged two fingers inside of her at the same moment Derek circled the bundle of nerves – lurching forward, as a sharp scream ripped from her throat.

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

Derek stood in the living room – watching as the memory washed over Penelope. Her brows were furrowed, mouth slightly parted, an adorable rosy blush tainting her cheeks – reminding him of how she looked in the midst of ecstasy.

He caught the knowing look of Hotch, who was leaning against the counter, amused and equally aroused.

If somebody had told Morgan that the most sensually erotic night of his life, would be spent with his boss and Baby Girl – he would have laughed in their face, and then punched them for thinking about Penelope in a sexual manner.

Last night, he had fucked her; made love to her like his life depended on it. He had cum with such force, he literally saw stars – vision blurring as he pounded into that hot, wet heat between those lush thighs of hers.

Yet, watching her stand there, like the little vixen she was – his dick throbbed, pulsing back to life. It didn't help that her silk robe fell just above her knees – the front was loosely knotted, revealing that cleavage he loved so much.

He had to take a deep breath, tamping down his raging arousal. His Baby Girl didn't need him throwing her over the back of the couch – repeating last night. Hell, he was still covered in her fluids, back still stinging from her nails raking his skin as she convulsed around him.

Having discovered a glimpse of heaven, in the arms of Penelope, he was not going to give her up. Though, he had to admit, watching her bounce on Hotch's dick like a bucking bronco would forever be engrained in his memory.

Looking back over towards his boss, he thought back to their talk the night before.

* * *

_ Flashback _

It was silent inside the SUV. The drive to Penelope's apartment wasn't that long with the absence of traffic – though the twenty minute ride had put the trio on edge.

Pulling up, parking in front of the empty courtyard, Penelope wrenched her seat belt off and practically flew out of the vehicle before Aaron could even put it into park.

Derek chuckled, eyes never leaving her ass, as she stood outside – relishing the cool night air.

Hearing the seat creak, he faced forward – catching Hotch's eyes in the rear view mirror.

"I know you love her, Derek," he was rolling up his sleeves. "Though considering you've had years to make a move, it's only fair that I get to play."

"What the hell makes you think, she's going to pick you," he growled, eyes narrowed into angry slits. "She'll pick me, Aaron," he tried to smile, but snarled instead. "We both know that."

"I've lost a wife, I'm raising a son alone," his voice had dropped an octave. "I work over 70 hours a week," brows furrowing, he glared back. "Your hissy fit, isn't going to stop me from fucking her tonight," He turned around, facing the darker man. "And I'm certainly going to enjoy it."

Derek was seething, fists clenched – knuckles turning light with barely restrained anger.

"Get some alcohol in your system, Hotch," he chuckled. "And suddenly your man enough."

"I've always been enough," he slowly turned around, looking out the passenger window – staring at the lady who had their full attention. "I just respect that woman, to have waited while you stood on the sidelines, dragging her along all these years."

Derek, gritted his teeth. That was a low blow, and Hotch knew it. She had been with Lynch, and he missed his opportunity – her happiness would always be above his own. Now, now she was single – her little display in the night club, certainly made that clear.

"I'm going to go upstairs, and I expect that you're going to follow," he unbuckled his seat belt. "So why don't we prove, which of us…is the better man."

Aaron was out the door, before Derek could respond. He watched as his boss, walked up to Penelope – whispering something in her ear that made her blush and look away. She turned towards the SUV, catching Derek's eyes and smiled.

Oh, he was going to play. And he was going to win.

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

To be continued…


	4. II:I

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Thank you every one, who has read (favorited, reviewed or followed) this story! Special shout out to my lovely friend PolHop, here's my gift to you!**

 **Warnings: Sexual Situations and Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter II: Part I

"What can I get you guys to start off with?" the perky waitress asked – blonde ponytail bouncing, an extra button undone, revealing a peep of her hot pink bra.

Penelope rolled her eyes and snorted – only to have three sets of eyes snap towards her. Embarrassed, she blushed – quickly lifting the menu to examine it, as if there was some secret ingredient to be discovered about Peggy's Famous Pancakes.

"Three waters," Hotch smiled at the young woman. "And three coffees. One black, one with three creamers and an ice coffee, hazelnut."

"No problem," she chirped, flashing him her pearly whites. "I'll give you a few extra minutes to look over the _menu_ ," she tossed Garcia a pointed look. "And be back with your orders."

It was quiet at the table – closing the sticky, laminated menu; Penelope stared at her nails, cleaning invisible dirt under the French tips. She wasn't exactly sure why she was peeved, but she was – needing a distraction, she looked up.

Arms crossed on top of the table, lips in a straight line – there was no denying the glimmer of amusement behind Aaron's dark ochre eyes.

Like in everything else, Derek – was the polar opposite. Sitting comfortably in the 'U' shaped booth – one arm flung across the back of the seat, his other hand resting on top of the table; a giant grin plastered across his face.

The men had made it abundantly clear that they weren't going to be leaving her alone; having camped out in her living room all morning. Penelope, feeling the need to continue on with her day, like nothing had happened – like, she didn't know the distinct weight of each of their dicks as they pounded in to her or that even though both men tasted salty, one was spicier and one was sweeter – defiantly ignored them. She ignored the heated glances and knowing smirks, or the obvious fact that her nipples had tightened, puckered and strained against the silk of her robe.

Having made a bowl of her favorite chocolate cereal for breakfast and parking herself on the other side of the purple couch, she surrounded herself with pillows; creating a barrier between her and the two wolves.

Chomping on the soggy, crispy bites, she couldn't help but pout. She wasn't a big breakfast eater, and cereal was a last-resort-occasional-midnight-snack food she kept for emergencies. Placing the unfinished bowl on the coffee table, she picked up the remote and changed the channel. Going through her list of favorite stations and coming up bored, she finally turned the TV to a documentary about exotic animals, or maybe it had been about nature; she couldn't tell.

Having lost her sense of concentration when Derek had scooted over – practically leaning on the pillows and falling into her lap. Aaron wasn't any better, perching himself on the arm rest right next to her – eyes focused on the screen, body angled completely towards her.

The sexual tension in her living room was so tangible it caused her to start breathing in short, quick little pants and the heat gathering between her thighs, had her blushing and shifting in her seat.

Then to Penelope's embarrassment, her stomach had growled – betraying her faux demeanor for hunger. Derek had chuckled, eyes twinkling with an 'I told you so' – hand cupping her kneecap as he drew comforting circles with his thumb.

Aaron gently stroked her cheek, forcing her to face him.

"Let's go get something to eat, Penelope," he had tucked a honeyed lock behind her ear – the gesture was so unlike his professional persona, she found herself nodding in earnest; completely intrigued, hungry and aroused.

"One coffee, black. One with, three creamers," the cheerful voice of Ms. Perky startled Penelope, dragging her mind out of her day dream and back inside the diner. "And one iced coffee, hazelnut," her sparkling blue eyes lingered on Hotch, head cocked to the side; she twirled a blonde lock – openly appraising him, not that Garcia could blame her.

He looked absolutely divine – wearing his black shirt; untucked, with a few buttons undone at the top, sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing forearms with the sparse tuft of dark hair which she had enjoyed running her fingers through while she was mounted on top of him – enjoying wave after wave of blissful pleasure.

"Thank you," Derek's husky voice ended her mental drooling session over her boss, eyes peering over the rim of her glasses, to devour her hunk of a best friend.

"Oh, no problem, handsome," Ms. Perky chirped – hand cupping his shoulder, thumb running gently against the soft cotton of his maroon shirt; a beautiful contrast against his toffee skin tone. "Nice tattoo," she winked.

Garcia was tapping the straw against the table for her cold drink, and nearly snapped the flimsy plastic in half.

Aaron smirked and Derek tossed her an arched brow – placing his hand over the waitress', he lightly patted it and scooted closer to Penelope.

"I think we're ready to order," he cleared his throat; eyes quickly scanning the menu, running a long finger across his chin – swiping that full bottom lip that was jutted out in concentration.

And that, was all it took.

* * *

_ _Flashback: Morning After_ _

Having changed into a simple plum sundress with little white flowers, high platform heels and matching chunky jewelry and cardigan sweater; Penelope felt she was finally ready to face the world. To go eat breakfast.

She had stepped underneath her beaded doorway and caught the eyes of both men – fighting the urge to scurry back into her closet and hide, she gritted her teeth and pushed through the tingling awareness that her body had encased itself in, from the moment she had stepped foot out onto that dance floor.

Taking a deep breath, she held their steely gazes with a fiery flash of her own hazel orbs, as her heels 'click-clacked' to the front door – opening it, only for a dark arm to shoot out and slam it shut; mouth falling into a soft 'O', freezing her to the spot.

"Oh, Baby Girl," that husky voice; deep and enticing – had her clit pulsing with desire as her knees locked and held her in place. "You can't wear that little getup, and not give me a kiss first."

Gripping her upper arm, Derek turned her around – forcing her back against the wooden door as he fused his body with hers. Sliding his hands underneath the skirt of her dress, he grabbed the soft flesh of her ass and squeezed – thumb sliding under the elastic of her panties, only to snap it against her skin.

Glaring at him, he chuckled. Leaning his forehead against hers; hot breath encasing her senses – amber eyes; filled with molten simmering heat and what she could only hope resembled something more than lust…perhaps, love – locked eyes with glittering hazel, and her heart skipped a beat; pulsing fluttering nerves throughout her body.

Bringing his hand up, he cupped her chin – thumb tracing the plump flesh of her mouth, only to lightly tap the little bow of her upper lip.

"Beautiful," came his whispered adoration.

His kiss was tender – like a sweet, lingering breath of a butterfly. Nibbling on her bottom lip, teeth gently tugging; suckling the flesh into his sultry mouth. She gasped, throwing her arms around his shoulders; clutching the base of his neck, bringing him closer.

He took the invitation and delved his tongue inside her mouth, dragging his other hand up to lift her breast, long fingers tweaking the pebbled flesh behind cotton and lace. Whimpering with need she tried to fight; wanting to control the kiss – only for Penelope to submit, allowing him to dominant; enjoying every second of it.

Her mind had short circuited, and the thrumming of arousal was overheating her sensitive body. Derek pulled away, pecking her gently one last time. She was still grasping the front of his shirt, panting as she tried to fill her lungs with oxygen – only to catch the scalding gaze of Aaron over his shoulder.

His lips were snarled, nostrils flaring, fists clenched – forcing himself to calm down. Penelope could only smirk, giddy with excitement – wanting to strut around like a peacock with feminine pride.

Derek followed her gaze, tilting her chin back to lock eyes with him one last time – a subtle look of regret flashed across his face, as he stepped aside.

Aaron was on her in an instant. Forcing a leg between her thighs, hand shooting up her neck; fingers weaving into her honeyed locks as he yanked her head back. Her breath hitched and she shivered in anticipation – staring into those ochre eyes which had narrowed into angry slits.

She waited, expecting his lips to devour her mouth – only to startle, when his velvety tongue licked the smooth porcelain column of her neck. Latching on to the pulse point, teeth grazing, suckling gently – it was like she had whiplash. Her knees would have buckled if his denim clad thigh wasn't pinning her in place – grinding his toned muscle against her lace covered center.

Oh, how she wanted to kiss him, needed to kiss him – only to have him pepper her shoulders, neck and cheeks with kisses; driving her insane.

"Aaron," she whimpered out on an airy breath – locking her eyes with Derek's behind him, those beautiful brows furrowed in concentration; amber eyes almost obsidian.

"You remember," Hotch growled out – her insides clenched, throbbing with need.

"I…please…" she babbled.

Hell, she could barely remember how to code. _What on earth was he talking about?_

Getting antsy, she wrapped her hands around his neck, forcing his mouth towards her swollen lips, only for him to pull away – eyes feral, his hand squeezed her waist, fingers digging into the soft curve of her hip.

"Don't fuck with me, Penelope," his tone was dark, dangerous and oh-so alluring – forcing her nipples to pucker into taut peaks, straining against the hard plane of his chest.

Getting pissed off, she pushed against his shoulders only for him to slam her hips harder onto his leg, dragging her already soaked center against the harsh fabric – shooting a shock wave of pleasure through her core.

She gasped in shock, only to mewl with need.

 _Fuck!_

"I…I…" she had to blink away the spots clouding her vision, swallowing her dry tongue.

Feeling movement against her side, she tore her gaze off of Aaron to discover Derek had slithered up next to her, his long arm; pressed between their molded bodies. His fingers grazed over the front of her chest, circling the sensitive flesh of her nipples, rolling them delicately between his fingers – only to squeeze them roughly, pinching them hard enough to pool heat between her quivering thighs.

"You have to tell us," Derek rasped out, hot breath lulling her body to undulate her hips against Aaron's leg, arching her back – in desperate longing.

"What you want," Aaron growled out, eyes blazing with fervor.

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the trio was eating their food; sipping on the caffeine beverages. Feeling like she had no control over the situation, since she couldn't stop her cheeks from flushing with heat or her nipples from reacting into taut peaks – Penelope decided to continue to avoid eye contact. Her body had gone rogue; becoming hyper aware of the two brute forces that were permanent invaders of her personal space – completely betraying her.

Eyes closed, hands clutched in front of her; fingers twisting together – stopping for a moment, sliding a ring off her finger, only to slide it back on; twirl it a few times – and repeat. A large hand encased over both of hers, she didn't even have to look up to know that the smooth, stubby digits, belonged to Aaron.

"Garcia," his tone caused her to slowly open her eyes – blinking away the harsh fluorescent lights of the diner. "Stop overthinking."

She glared at him. It was bad enough that they were taking care of her famished, overworked body, soothing her fears with sweet words and gentle caresses, tempting her inner Goddess; igniting her arousal, scorching her with pleasure she never knew existed – and now he wanted her to stop _overthinking_?

It was too late. She had gone and obliterated her fragile heart; seeking the sinful passion elicited by the two domineering men instead.

In the harsh reality of morning, her lust fueled haze and alcoholic courage had faded, allowing her mind the time to _think._ And think she did. Her heart was working overtime, pumping thought after thought to race through her mind, tainting the sweet afterglow with bitter regret.

She thought all morning – why her Hot Stuff chose last night to finally whisper exquisite praises into her ear; words she had waited years for him to declare, holding her hands above her head, fingers entwined together, bodies melded as one as he slowly rocked his hips against her heated core – possessing her mind, body and soul; tearing her heart apart only to stitch it back together with every kiss.

She couldn't stop thinking – why Aaron, the ever stoic leader, had chosen last night to fuck her into oblivion. Growling possessively from beneath her, behind her and above her – sending her body spiraling into a stream of endless waves of searing pleasure that had her forgetting her own name, as she writhed uncontrollably around him, begging for him to take her _harder_ and _faster_ ; needing _more_.

Sitting in the booth, inside the cold diner; still wanting – no, already cursed, addicted to the tantalizing sensations they evoked within her, she was craving for _more_.

Yearning for more gentle kisses that would turn into a breathless, carnal tug of war. For tender caresses to turn into fingers digging, melding, clutching into her soft skin – forcing her body to accept the endless merry-go-round of pain and pleasure; exploding her senses into blissful euphoria.

Her heart may have gotten tattered, but her body – oh, her body was exquisitely satisfied.

Looking up, she caught sight of ochre and amber eyes – filled with concern, brewing with desire.

"We should talk," Aaron wiped the side of his mouth. "Set up some ground rules."

"Like guidelines," Derek nodded, scooping up a forkful of eggs and smiling at her.

"Excuse me?" she had taken a big sip of her coffee, nearly spitting it out through her nose. "Rules!" she sputtered. "Guidelines!"

"Yes," she watched as her boss, buttered another slice of his toast. "For this…affair, were all having," he casually muttered out – as if they were talking about the weather outside; sunny with a chance of 'what the fuck'!

"Wait…I…" she was rambling, losing her voice yet again.

Hotch stopped what he was doing, as Derek arched a brow at her.

 _Tell us, what you want!_

"That's not, what I…" she took a breath, cursing her fair skin as she felt her cheeks flush with heat.

"Want?" Aaron teased, smirking; eyes glimmering with hunger – trailing them across her chest, her turgid nipples tightening beneath his gaze.

Crossing her arms, she huffed – hesitating, but only a moment. Looking back up, she stared at both of them, hazel eyes crackling with fire.

"I'm listening," a coy little smirk, gracing her pouty lips.

To be continued…

 **A/N No, my Muse didn't forget about the stockings, that's up next ;)**


	5. II:II

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Thank you all for the continued support, it is greatly appreciated!  
**

 **Warnings: Strong Sexual Situations & Coarse Language **

**Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter II: Part II

* * *

_ _Flashback: Two Months Prior_ _

Hot beads of sweat rolled down her back, following the indent of her spine, trailing the large valley between her breasts – soaking her bright purple workout tank; the itchy material, clinging to her skin.

 _A tree_! _Be a tree, Garcie_!

Though she couldn't help but feel like a broken flamingo.

Arms stretched high above her head, hands stacked flat together; one leg bent at a 90 degree angle – leg wobbling, she had to hop around on her yellow and orange spiral mat to keep balance.

"Remember relax your muscles…breathe naturally," the instructor's, silvery voice was monotonous, as it drifted over the soothing nature music and rhythmic drum beats.

Glasses slipping down her nose, she huffed in irritation – blowing her matted bangs across her forehead, only to yelp in surprise as her waist tilted to the side; forcing her to drop her arms out to her sides as she righted herself.

Emily stood in front of her – balancing perfectly; like a fucking sturdy oak tree. The thought flittered across her mind so suddenly, that Penelope felt instantly guilty; blaming her foul mood on her aching muscles and the thong riding up her ass. Deciding to mentally compliment her friend on how her black sports bra and leggings, flattered her olive skin tone and lean body instead.

The yoga studio was supposed to be a place of peace, after all.

The raven haired beauty, careened her neck backwards to stare at her; manicured brows knitted in concern and Penelope tossed her a smile; arm shooting out to grab JJ's shoulder as she stumbled once more.

The other blonde had shifted her pose, switching which leg she bent – struggling for balance herself, but still managing to look like a graceful ballerina, in her white long sleeved spandex shirt and olive green shorts.

"Breathe in…and breathe out," the young man coaxed. "Feel your body become loose and relaxed," walking around the studio, adjusting the poor posture of a few people he passed.

This was probably the worst idea she had ever agreed to, and every time she muttered _this was the last time_ – she somehow always ended up back here. The new studio had conveniently opened up a few blocks away from Quantico; right next to their favorite Italian deli and coffee house. For the last month, if the other two Agents were in town, then this would be the place you would find them after work – sweaty, red-faced, and contorting their bodies into positions that Garcia was certain should be banned in all 50 states!

"Clear your mind," Theo, the tall and toned yogi encouraged, tugging his shaggy blonde locks out of his eyes. "And slowly change into the Triangle."

 _Oh, frack_!

Any stance based off of a shape, she absolutely despised.

Rolling her eyes as she watched Prentiss easily drop into the next position – one leg slightly bent in front of her, as her other leg stretched far out behind her; while one arm touched her toes and the other extended towards the ceiling; completely balanced, face full of serenity.

Hell, even JJ had stopped teetering – though the tech felt a little better when she noticed her friend's eyes were clamped shut, pointed nose scrunched in concentration.

A large hand gently grabbed her waist and she was barely able to muffle her startled scream – tossing a chuckling Prentiss a glare; looking away only to catch JJ with one eye peeping open, smirking at her.

"Easy Penelope," his calming voice reassured her. "Let me help," face blooming with heat as his fingers fluttered over her arms and legs, guiding her overheated body into position.

The gesture was meant to be professional; completely innocent – how could he know that she was nearing the six month mark of her breakup with Kevin; that she hasn't been on a date since they parted ways, that the close proximity of Theo reminded Garcia of her recent dry spell which was the current status of her love life.

Her skin tingled with familiar awareness, insides coiling with longing, thighs already burning from exertion – she faltered, swaying suddenly to the side, arms flying out in front of her; touching the ground before she embarrassed herself further by falling on her face.

Theo; a firm believer of making a bad situation into a good one – steadied her hips, cheering her on. "Perfect! Everyone take a deep breath, and move slowly into Down Dog," or maybe, it was simply just…pity.

Grunting, she took a deep calming breath; walking her hands farther away from herself – if she was going to participate, might as well try to do it right.

Staring upside down at her legs, she was reminded once again how out of place she was here – her bright red spandex capris; with the cute white and gold floral print, matched perfectly with her top – though clashed with the folksy earth tone environment of the studio.

"Clear your mind, keep breathing naturally," leaving Penelope's side, to help another woman across the room. "Imagine yourself in that Happy Place," he advised.

Feeling a twinge in her side, she wiggled her toes against the bamboo wooden floor – spreading her legs wider, spotting JJ and Emily grinning right back at her.

"Having fun?" Em whispered, causing JJ to laugh, losing her balance for a moment.

"I hate…you both," Penelope muttered, quickly sliding her glasses back up only for them to slide back down.

"Your ass looks great though," Prentiss teased, eyes sparkling with mischief.

An agreeable grunt sounded next to them, causing all three heads to turn, spying an older man smirking widely at Garcia – who was about to give him a piece of her mind, when Theo clapped his hands, ringing the set of wooden chimes; indicating the session was over.

Twenty minutes later the women found themselves munching on an antipasto salad and splitting a large eggplant parmigiana sandwich, with extra sauce and cheese – they deserved it, after all.

" _So_ …" JJ took a small sip of water, eager eyes staring at the blonde. "How did it go?"

"Huh?" she mumbled around a savory bite.

"Your date." Emily prodded, dabbing a piece of garlic bread in her plate of marinara.

"My date?" munching on her salad, brows furrowed in confusion.

"With Brad," JJ reminded, laughing at her friends face. "How long was she dangling upside down for?" glancing at Emily.

"Longer than we thought," Prentiss snorted, taking a piece of bread off Garcia's plate.

 _Brad? Oh, Brad! The Agent from the fifth floor. Who she forgot…all about!_

 _Goodness, Garcie!_

"Um," nibbling on her bottom lip – trying to buy herself some time.

"You didn't go did you?" JJ sighed. She hadn't thought Kevin was the worst person in the world, but her friend deserved better – and she was doing the best she could to get Penelope back on the horse.

"Um," hazel eyes darted around the room, feeling guilty.

"Garcia?" Emily stopped eating, waving the buttery bread in her face. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" voice cracking, a sure sign she was lying.

JJ arched a brow at her, wiping the side of her mouth with the white linen.

"I didn't cancel!" aggressively cutting a piece of sandwich, cutlery scraping against the plate. "I didn't do anything!" a hand gently rested on hers, halting her movements. "I…forgot…all about it," she mumbled.

It was silent for a moment, looking back up at her friends, relieved to see no judgment across their faces – just concern.

"Well," Emily took a big bite. "He was a shit shot anyway!"

"Prentiss!" JJ scolded through a fit of giggles.

"It's true!" Emily sipped her soda. "Have you seen him at the range? Yikes!"

Penelope was relieved, but still felt ashamed of her cruel; though unintentional behavior.

 _Maybe, she could make him a batch of cookies! Muffins? Or…no, that might be weird._

"What is it-…," JJ pursed her lips thinking. "That you want in a man?"

Emily cackled, nearly chocking on her drink. "To get laid!" she mocked whispered.

Penelope sat mouth agape, cheeks fusing with heat once more.

 _Was it that obvious_!?

"You do seem really antsy, Pen," JJ smiled coyly at her. "And…you have been snapping a lot lately."

"I didn't think Lynch had it in him," Prentiss waggled her brows. "But he obviously was doing something right."

"Hey!" she groused, though why she felt the need to defend her ex's abilities in bed – especially when he had left her unsatisfied on more than one occasion; hell, she could count on her hands the few times she actually discovered ecstasy with him.

 _Why did you stay with him so long then?_ Her mind harshly taunted; forcing her to gulp down half her lemonade – willing the prickling tears back, trying to mask the years of pain – of always falling for the type of men that never fell for her.

Lynch was the safe choice and used to provide comfort which she had sought – though he couldn't contend with her heart which was split apart before they had ever met.

"He was…nice!" the excuse sounded lame, even to her own ears.

Having sensed the drastic shift within their friend, the women each scooted a little closer in their corner booth, reaching out a comforting hand.

"Don't worry, Pen," JJ brushed Garcia's hair over her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "You're going to find someone."

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

The memory washed over her; blinking her eyes – looking up to the faces of Aaron and Derek; ochre and amber eyes patiently waiting.

 _She sure did find someone alright – two someone's._

"What were you saying?" Penelope's mind still felt hazy; tender heart exposed – completely vulnerable to the two men who each owned a piece – yet, there was some other part of her; a brazen side to her eccentric personality that wanted to bask in the glory of their attention; their devotion to satisfy her needs.

The pleasure they had evoked within her from one night, had ignited her body; consumed her soul and left her feeling as if her life was balancing on a precipice – waiting for her to plummet back down to Earth, turning the world on its axis.

Hotch smiled knowingly at her as Morgan softly chuckled, tearing off a hunk of bacon. "We were waiting for you to say something, Baby Girl."

"Oh," her laughter was strained, taking a bite of her chocolate chip pancakes. "Right."

 _Rules and Guidelines._

Nibbling on her lip, taking a moment to clear her thoughts.

"Can I-I…say something?" his usually determined voice; faltered briefly, revealing Aaron's nerves – a rare occurrence, for their stoic boss. "I think I speak for all of us, when I say we all care deeply about each other," waiting as they both nodded their agreement. "And we don't want anyone to get hurt," taking a sip of his coffee. "I'm not sure what to call this _thing_ we have going on, an _affair_ sounds sordid and last night was anything but," he glanced at Derek, then stared at Penelope; smiling. "It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life," spearing a forkful of hash browns. "And I know I don't want it to end. Last night I was determined to start something between us, but I can't force you to choose."

"I don't want to!" hazel eyes widened in shock at her outburst; said with pure conviction – taking a chance, risking it all.

"I'm not going anywhere," Derek's husky voice was palpable, reaching out to her; like a soothing balm to her fragile state.

"Neither am I," Aaron agreed; eyes piercing her with simmering heat.

The icicle barrier around Penelope's heart splintered – warmth; that of desire…of _love_? Pumped through her veins, sending a swarm of butterflies cascading in her tummy as she tried to grasp the severity of the situation.

 _Though just because they want to stay…doesn't mean they love you, Garcie._

Reason rang through her mind, like a splash of cold water, dousing her hopes with a bout of insecurity.

"Penelope," always taking charge, a leader through and through. "What is it that you want?"

 _Darn that question_!

Her mind and heart were battling it out; this was unfamiliar territory for her – was she supposed to admit years of pent of feelings that she had long since buried. Penelope was a true opponent of change; fear of rejection keeping her on the sidelines the majority of her life.

 _What_

 _Do_

 _You_

 _Want?_

Squaring her shoulders, taking a deep breath.

"I don't…want this…to end," forcing herself to hold their gazes, bracing for the inevitable downfall – though now that the floodgates were open, she couldn't stop. "You both are two of the most important people in my life. I don't want to lose either one of you," darn her fair skin that bloomed a rosy hue, and her sensitivity that had her teetering between, daring courage and a fit of sobs. "I've never felt so…"

 _How the hell, did she describe last night?  
_

 _With, honesty._

"Felt so, free…so alive," closing her eyes, the salty drop rolled down her cheek – Derek's firm caress, delicately wiping it away – causing her heart to flip flop once more. "I loved…every minute of it."

 _It wouldn't be wise to lay all the cards out on the table…just yet, right?_

Opening her eyes, gasping at how close they had scooted over to her.

"You're not going to lose us," Aaron's gruff voice was resolute, tucking a curl behind her ear.

"So…what does that mean?" eyes darting around the diner, thankful they were in the back; away from the crowd. "For all of us. What are we...to each other?"

"I want to be your lover," ochre eyes, freezing her to the spot. "Something more than a friend. I want there to be more between us."

"I feel the same," that husky voice melting her, amber eyes bristling with heated emotions. "Everything, Baby Girl."

 _Holy hell! She was not expecting this – this…whatever this was!_

Then her face broke out into a toothy grin, nodding fervently.

"Good," taking another swig of his coffee, Aaron shook the ketchup bottle; adding a healthy serving to his potatoes. "So, now I would like to suggest that…we don't date anyone else, while were committed to each other."

"I second that," dark eyes narrowing as Derek forked a giant bite of his pancakes.

Shocked at their boldness; hiding her smile at their possessive nature – she was at a loss for words, completely thrilled, wholeheartedly agreeing on that rule. Though her generous heart was compassionate – she too, didn't like to share something that was so precious to her.

"Also, are we allowed to see you only when all three of us are together," Aaron looked at her. "Or can we have individual time with you?"

Penelope had not thought this out; blanching when she noticed them staring at her mouth – embarrassed to have been caught licking her lips at such a prospect.

"I'm fine with both," tapping her straw, swirling the melting ice around her coffee. "I want to see you together and separately."

Derek looked like the cat that ate the canary, and nodded in agreement.

Taking a bite of a strawberry, only to inhale it on Aaron's next confession – sputtering as tears stung her eyes, patting her chest; accepting the water Derek held out for her.

"What!" she gasped out.

"Birth control," Aaron repeated, a mixture of concern and amusement covering his face. "I didn't mean to overstep, but I want us to be safe. We used condoms last night, but I think we can gather that in the heat of the moment, it could slip our mind."

"Yes, I'm on it," staring down at her plate; discussing this with her best friend and boss was a bit embarrassing and she chided herself for not thinking about it herself.

"I know I have a reputation," Derek cleared his throat, jumping right in. "But I want you to know- since were on the topic," crossing his arms, looking suddenly timid. "That I…do not sleep with everyone…I go out with and I _always_ used protection," obviously glad to get that out of the way, he tossed Penelope a charming grin. "Clean as a whistle."

"Glad to know, my Chocolate Drop," feeling more at ease. "I'm also clean," she mumbled – of the three she was probably the least experienced; and she did not need to advertise that.

"Same for me as well," Aaron added.

"Can I get you anything else?" Ms. Perky returned, hand on hip; holding a pot of coffee.

"A check," Aaron politely nodded. "Please," glancing at Penelope's half eaten plate. "And a to-go box."

"No problem, sugar!" she chirped, walking away with an extra bounce in her step.

Grumbling to herself; adjusting the top of her plum dress – glancing to the side when Derek nearly dropped his water, clanking glasses together.

"You okay, Hot Stuff?" Penelope cooed, smirking as his eyes lingered on her cleavage, only to swallow her tongue at the other man's statement.

"Have you ever worn them at work?" Aaron's eyes had darkened, glittering with arousal – instantly pooling heat between her thighs, nipples puckering under the thin cotton; standing at attention.

"W-What!" she gulped, reaching for a drink to soothe her dry mouth.

Aaron eyed her chest, nostrils flaring.

She knew exactly what he was asking.

* * *

_ _Flashback: Night Before_ _

Ringlets of sweat caressed every dip and curve along her naked body; legs spread wide, thrown over the brief covered hips of each man – tugging on the silk stockings wrapped firmly around her wrists; restraining her to the headboard

Penelope's head was thrown back, eyes clamped shut – panting nonsensical phrases. Body squirming with every skillful stroke, grinding against an invisible force; seeking release from the burning ache deep within her.

"Please…please…" she gasped, trying to close her legs; press her thighs together – putting pressure where she needed it most, only for two sets of very different hands to keep her knees in place.

Her mind was soaring on an astral plane of blissful euphoria – five relentless orgasms in a row, would do that to you. She didn't remember leaving the living room, or getting undress, or even getting tied up – but Garcia was certain she would remember this pleasure induced coma for the rest of her life.

Her current predicament; forcing her to feel every teeth grazing nip against her plump breasts – the petal pink tips tightly puckered to a dark rose, glistening with saliva as their mouths continued to suckle the soft flesh. Tugging on the taut points until her whimpers became little shrieks – blowing hot air onto the pale orbs; still perky and ripe without a bra, peppering her chest and neck with kisses.

Fingers grazing over her rib cage, fluttering against her rounded belly, squeezing her hips. Reading every contour of her body like braille – playing her like a maestro would on orchestra. Granting her mercy, the hands against her quivering legs – would slide tantalizingly slow down her thighs, brushing over the soft cluster of trim hair. Long fingers competing with stubby ones as they stroked her slit, spreading around the wet heat – avoiding the swollen bundle of nerves and barely delving a knuckle inside her entrance.

"Oh, fuck!" she gritted out; yanking her arms, bucking her hips. "Please…I can't…too much," licking her lips, blinking away the dazzling spots blurring her vision. "I-I…more!"

"More what?" Aaron's gruff voice; from her right side, demanded. "I need you to speak, Penelope."

"I can't…" whimpering, eyes brimming with tears; overwhelmed with sensations.

Derek cupped the back of her left leg, tugging it upwards, until her thigh rested against her belly, knee cap just below her breast. Aaron was set on proving a point, delving two fingers inside of her – stretching her without warning; causing her back to arch, tits pushing into their faces.

"Yes!" she screamed, reveling in being filled – though it was far from enough, groaning when he slowly pulled out of her.

Ochre eyes shimmering like a starless sky, thin lips pressed into a smirk. "Do you have any toys, Garcia?" Aaron glanced around the room, one finger swirling the slick heat around her sensitive entrance.

"Huh?" vocabulary reduced to garbled words; shuddering breaths, the only things keeping her conscious.

"What do you use…," trailing a soaked finger further up her center – circling the little pearl, only to press the nerve firmly between her soft folds. "To pleasure yourself with?"

Head rolling to the side, body jerking – undulating her hips against his hand, only for him to click his tongue in disapproval. Quickly removing his hand, bringing it over Garcia's body – hovering over her ample chest, only to trail the glossy essence around her pebbled nipples.

Derek lowered her leg, just the slightest – latching on to the peak, growling his approval. "Fuck Pen," he rasped out. "You taste delicious."

Aaron bent his arm, propping his head up, staring down at her – fingers gently rolling the supple flesh, mimicking what she wanted done between her legs; pulsing waves of electric shocks throughout her body.

"Toys," Hotch reminded her. "Where are they?"

A scarlet flush infused her cheeks, shaking her head. "I d-don't…have any," only to suddenly yelp in surprise as Derek's hand swiftly smacked her ass. "Ow, fuck Morgan!" glaring at him, only to bite her lip and turn away – when his fingers traced the fresh heat that was seeping down her thighs.

"Oh, its Morgan now?" he chuckled; amber eyes glimmering obsidian with arousal – lowering his head; suckling, teeth grazing, latching on once more.

"Garcia," his tone had shifted, dropping an octave – Aaron's professional voice; serious, demanding. "Are…your…nipples pierced?"

"What?" Derek released her tit with a wet ' _pop_ ', tossing the other man a smirk, raising a brow at Penelope – throwing her leg back over his hip, as he examined her nipple. "Oh, Baby Girl."

Aaron's deft fingers, tweaked her flesh – nail flicking over the hardened, little hole – perfect for a piece of jewelry.

Penelope had never been so turned on; burning with arousal – feeling as if she would ignite at any moment, only to turn slightly embarrassed at their new discovery. She didn't think they would have noticed – _damn profilers!_

Both men had stopped, staring at her – and she knew if she wanted the sweet relief her body was begging for, she would need to answer.

"Yes," wiggling her hips, trying to get this show back on the road.

"When?" Derek's husky voice was guttural.

Rolling her eyes, losing patience. "30th birthday!" she snapped. "Please!"

"Is that why you were late?" Aaron smiled, the memory of her surprise birthday party was a rather fond one. The vision of Penelope in that form fitting cheetah blouse with the plunging neckline and matching pumps; dark red skirt that cupped her ass – looking every seductive inch of the Goddess she was, having every guy their drooling over her. Forcing Aaron and Derek to protectively flank her sides all night, warding people away.

Though knowing what was under that little get-up, made the memory – so much better.

She could only nod, seconds away from cussing them out to the darkest corners of hell – and then as if her prayers were answered, two sets of different fingers plunged inside of her. Finding release – body arching off the bed; freezing, only to quake as she contorted – shattering into pinwheels of electric heat, her sharp cry filling the room.

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

"Yes," she couldn't meet their eyes. "I have."

Aaron's fist was clutched so tight his knuckles were turning white and Derek's sharp intake of breath, caused her to giggle.

"I wear them quite a bit, actually," looking back up. "That blue dress last week, you know, with the polka dots," grinning as both nodded. "I had my piercings."

Their muttered ' _Fucks_ ' had the waitress fumble with the receipt upon her return; glancing between the three, blushing when the men had yet to look away from Penelope's chest, lifting her gaze only to see Garcia smirking right back at her.

"You can leave it on the table," where this brazen side of her came from, she had no idea, but she was certainly going to enjoy it.

The drive back to her place had gone over pretty much the same, when someone had an idea; they voiced it, often leading to little jokes and saucy replies that had all three trying to outdo each other – until someone; mostly Garcia, blushed profusely.

Aaron parked the SUV in front of the courtyard; though they had discussed their _Rules_ – no one had mentioned what was to happen for the rest of the day.

Penelope stared out the window, fingers fiddling with her necklace – only to look back at her two _lovers_ , smiling at the title – though, still hoping for something more official.

Taking a deep breath, opening her door and getting out – turning around with a coy little smirk. "Are you two…," nibbling on her pouty bottom lip. "Coming up?"

To be continued…


	6. III:I

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds! Thank you everyone who is reading (reviewed, followed or favorited)! I had too many ideas for this chapter, so it will once again be broken into two parts! Also I finally tried making cover photos, I hope y'all like it!**

 **Warning: Strong Sexual Situations & Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter III: Part I

"They were so big, Dad!" the childlike wonder in his voice, mangled his heart for missing yet another event in his sons life. "There were three of them. Well first, there was just the Mom and Baby Elephant, but then the Dad came over. And then…," taking a deep breath. "They started playing in the mud, and they got all dirty!"

"They did!" tossing another file into his briefcase; mind running through a mental checklist of what he needed. "What else did you see?"

"Monkeys! And there was this one with a butt!" Jack's amused giggled brought a smile to his face. "Oh, and I saw an Orange-uh…Orangu-."

"Orangutan?" Hotch offered.

"Yes! That's it!" the little boy sighed into the phone. "You know everything, Dad!"

Aaron grinned once more: the ice surrounding his chest melting with every glittering laugh of Jack's; swarming with pride at his son's admiration. "What about those alligators?"

"Crocodiles!" Jack corrected, and Hotch could imagine his _'duh'_ expression from the office.

The light knocking brought his attention from zipping up his go-bag to Penelope standing in the doorway. Gripping his phone, unable to stop the stirrings of arousal from sparking to life as the memory of what they had been doing just over an hour ago had him fighting the urge to bend her over his desk; glancing at the open blinds, he had to settle with an arched brow and a rare, but daring smirk instead.

Those pouty lips with the shiny gloss that he knew tasted of vanilla were pursed as she tried not to blush, though the rosy hue tainted her cheeks anyway and she had to catch her breath and look away before mouthing if it was Jack on the phone.

Nodding his head, he waved the phone above her hand until she huffed with feigned irritation and snatched it away from him. "How's my favorite Jack-o'-lantern doing?" she chirped excitedly; hazel eyes sparkling as she listened intently to the zoo adventure he had taken with his aunt that morning.

"Did you see panda bears-oh…no, tell me about the tigers!" a faint familiarity fluttered around his heart; something distinct he hadn't felt in years and he had to take a step back – for if Penelope wasn't hot as hell before; he certainly became struck by her beauty watching her adore his son – captivated by the compassionate spirit that held this team, this family, together.

Sensing a presence; he looked towards the door to spot Rossi standing there with a rather amused expression on his face; dark inquisitive eyes swirling with curiosity and something akin to envy. An acknowledgment passed through the agents, and he was reminded of the attraction the older man had held for his beloved 'tech kitten' – though it was something he would never pursue out of respect for the bubbly blonde and perhaps fear of being threatened by her Chocolate Adonis – who Hotch had noticed was staring at them from the bullpen.

Though Aaron was certain that the almost 30 year age gap was the biggest factor why the once-upon-a-time office Lothario hadn't pursued a relationship with Penelope; and he couldn't be more grateful.

Realizing his cheeks were burning from smiling; the stoic mask of professionalism fell upon his face and he cleared his throat, walking towards him. "Do you need something, Rossi?"

The older man raised a brow, peeling his eyes away from Garcia; narrowing them at Hotch. "Were ready to go."

"We'll be there."

Looking back and forth between the pair, nodding his head before turning around, stopping when he caught the simmering amber eyes of Derek who was sitting in his seat like a poised cobra ready to strike; shaking his head and mumbling under his breath, he quickly headed for his own office.

"Do you think he knows?" her hot breath tickled his ear, but it was the lilt of concern that had him bring a hand back to squeeze hers in reassurance – having kept an ear on her conversation the whole time, he was aware that Jack had to run off for lunch, and thankful Penelope had assured his son he would call him on the plane.

"No," and he truly didn't think he did – though, he gathered the man was suspicious; especially since he had walked in on Hotch grinning like an idiot and openly staring at Penelope's ass. A new habit he needed to break, and soon...or maybe, he could get her to stop wearing those form fitting dresses and skirts – and wear nothing at all instead.

That train of thinking and sneaky smirk got him a pinch to the back of his neck. "Stop it," her reprimand lost the scolding tone with her throaty giggle.

"Well maybe I wouldn't be having such thoughts…" he turned around to face her, enjoying that he had her all to himself – feeling Morgan's gaze burning a hole in the back of his head; because even though the two domineering males were on common ground, there was no denying the competitive edge that flared up with every interaction involving Penelope, "…if you weren't such a tease."

She scoffed and then blushed – the brazen goddess hiding behind her coy innocence; for the fluorescent lights of the office certainly was a reality check compared to the sunlit safety of her bedroom.

"Hotch," she whispered, peeking over his shoulder to smile at her Hot Stuff; fanning herself with the files.

Aaron took a step closer, forcing her to step back – a dangerous game, but considering his dick had been throbbing for the last hour, over that little stunt she tried to pull – it was only fair to make her a little bit, uncomfortable.

"Garcia," he challenged; growing fond of that permanent glow on her cheeks. "Did you pack it?" the tone of his voice had dropped, causing her eyes to widen.

Looking down, nibbling on that plump bottom lip, she finally lifted those hazel eyes; peering at him over those pink frames and nodded.

He had to clench his jaw to keep from growling, though it didn't stop his mind from racing with the vivid memory that had plagued him since he stepped foot inside his office.

* * *

 __ Flashback: After Breakfast __

That little vixen, with her coquettish grin and bouncing tits, flounced her round ass up the stairs to her apartment – making it inside before either man had even left the SUV.

Hotch had to clear his throat, loosening his grip around the steering wheel before he tore it off the dashboard – looking back at Morgan, who wasn't faring any better with his fingers clutched into the leather of the passenger seat trying to control his breathing.

Stepping foot into the afternoon heat, he locked the vehicle and was about to head up when Derek's rather feral growl stopped him; following his gaze three stories up, he nearly swallowed his tongue.

Standing in front of her window; looking down on them, wearing only a saucy grin and the flimsiest white lace bra and thong he had ever seen – had him frozen to the spot. Jaw locking in place; his member flaring to life, only to be jarred out of his worship when he heard a rowdy hoot and the blare of a car horn, watching as she quickly closed the colorful curtains and disappeared from view.

"Good God," and it took him a moment to realize it was he who had spoken.

"I'm gonna spank that perky little ass of hers," the darker man gritted out, and by the seething heat behind those narrowed amber eyes – Penelope just might finally get her wish, one that the two of them have been teasing about for years.

And hell, he just might join them – since Aaron was still getting used to sharing her with Derek, but that little public display – letting the world see her lily white skin and voluptuous curves that had his already straining dick against his belt, throbbing with arousal – was making his usually stoic nature growl with possessive yearning.

It took less than a minute to haul their asses upstairs and he had to bite his cheek from remarking why Derek had a key and he didn't – palms sweating, chiding himself for being so…petty, like a love-sick teenager…and holy shit!

 _Love?_

He was far from _that_ …that messy emotion that did nothing but end in divorce, tearing his heart out when he couldn't do anything to stop that bullet from destroying his life, making him a single parent – standing underneath the door frame, letting Morgan waltz right passed him, he had to take a moment to catch his breath before the depression that had settled deep within his bones seeped back into his veins.

He had come so far from that dark abyss, and a lot of it had to do with that ray of sunshine in the next room – whether it was bringing him some home cooked meals that he could warm up in the microwave or checking in on Jack and making sure he left the office at a decent hour – that was all her, and rather than ruining the moment with his fucked up personal problems, Aaron decided to tamp down the flux of emotions; forcing his feelings to the back burner and allowing the intoxicating lust induced stupor to compel him through the door.

The living room was quiet and he spotted Derek; shoulders tense, hand fisted against his leg, waiting underneath the beaded doorway to her bedroom. It was then that little vibrating hum filled his senses, and his mouth literally salivated.

Walking forward he found himself wishing he had Reid's eidetic memory, wanting to vividly remember this moment until the day he died. Laying sprawled out on the bed; nipples puckering under the see-through garment, legs bent and spread wide – her fingers trailing the shiny purple bullet from her knee cap and down her thigh, only to follow the path up her other leg.

"Took you long enough," she purred.

And though he felt like he was drooling his mouth felt parched, only mustering up a strangled _'huh'_ – stepping forward, drawn to the bed; for she was like a lighthouse calling his ship in a storm, bringing him to safety and he would have made it to dock, if Derek didn't thrust out his arm and stop him from getting closer.

The instant she brought her free hand up to tweak her swollen nipple; rolling it between her fingers, while her other hand placed that toy right where he wanted his mouth – at the pulsing point between her thighs, he understood what was happening.

She was putting on a show for them, their personal performer – whimpering with need, spreading those creamy thighs farther apart; revealing her glistening folds that had him transfixed to the spot, using all his energy to not delve into that slick heat and possess her right there.

Though catching Morgan's flared nostrils; sweat pooling between his furrowed brows – he was pretty certain the other agent would shoot him and then fuck her senseless before even thinking about calling Hotch an ambulance if he even dared to take a step forward. So he stayed still, deciding to enjoy her brazen act that was clearly for their benefit.

Her breathy little pants and keening moans had her arching her back, pressing those large tits in the air, clamping those dazzling hazel orbs shut as her supple body coiled with arousal.

Then, as if she couldn't get any more alluring; she brought a finger to her chin, tracing that plump bottom lip before poking her cute little pink tongue out; licking from base to tip and then sucking it into her mouth, rather delightfully.

"Fuck'n hell," Morgan mumbled, only to toss him a glare when the shrill ringing of his cellphone shattered the moment – though Penelope didn't seem to mind, opening her glossy eyes and arching a brow; squeezing her breast as her head rolled back against the familiar fluffy pillow.

Not giving a shit, he let the phone go to voicemail, trying to remind his lungs to take in the much needed air – only to curse the device when it went off again, and again.

"What!" voice guttural; looking away before he ripped Rossi's head off.

"Oh, fuck," that got his attention; gritting his teeth, watching with narrowed eyes as Derek pressed her thigh back into the mattress and covered her other hand between her legs; pressing the toy against her clit – setting a rhythm that had her mumbling incoherent curse words as she writhed beneath him.

"What?" swallowing his tongue, trying to focus – something about Oregon and five murders.

"Oh…fu-uck…please," arm shooting out to his bicep, nails digging into the ink of the lion; encouraging Derek to spread her even farther apart, letting go of her hand to delve three fingers into her heat – forcing a scream from her parted lips.

"No Dave, It's the TV," he took a few steps out of her room, eyes never leaving her as he tried to come up with something. "Sorry, let me turn it down."

"Oh, my…my…oh," her body sprung up, freezing just a second before quivering; shattering as she contorted against his precise strokes. "God…fuck!"

"Serial killer? Where?" licking his lips. "Oregon?" he nodded his head, though it was more to clear the blood pulsing in his ears than to answer his friend. "Got it," clicking off, not bothering with pleasantries.

Standing at the foot of the bed, taking a deep breath – that lingering scent that could only belong to Penelope, wafted over him; momentarily making him forget about work.

"We have a case?" Derek was still rubbing her thigh, calming her as she came back down from her blissful high.

"Yes," waiting until she locked eyes with him. "And you're coming with us," smirking when she glared at him, understanding that there was no dire need to be on the case, but rather for his own personal needs.

She was about to protest, when he raised a hand. "Pack a go bag," spotting the abandoned toy at the foot of the bed. "And Garcia…bring that with you."

Sometimes, it was good to be the boss.

_ End of Flashback _

* * *

 **A/N Fun on a plane, anyone? For it certainly is a long ride from Virginia to Oregon ;)**


	7. III:II

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Hello again! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for all of your kind and continued support! Sorry for the slight delay with this, but I wanted to make it perfect, and went back and changed a few things, so I hope it's alright!  
**

 **Warning: Sexual Situations & Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter III: Part II

The small, warm rays of sunlight streaming in from the little window of the BAU jet was slowly, but surely, lulling Penelope to sleep – considering she had slept less than three hours the night before and her muscles were still tingling with a deep satisfying ache; it was a quite a miracle that she was even semi-conscious.

Having spent the first hour, or rather – and she was proud of this, the first twenty minutes of the five-hour trip completing her research on this new case file and hell, she had even managed to help out Cooper's Red Cell team – she wasn't one to brag…often-ish, but Garcia had given herself a mental pat on the back.

Now two hours later, snuggled under her small knitted teal and coral throw blanket, sitting tucked into the window seat of the table; taking the time to just simply enjoy the rarely experienced comforts of the jet. There were the plush, cream seats with temperature controls; the damn thing even reclined and had a hidden cup holder, and don't get her started on the plethora of snacks, which she believed were a little too scrumptious for airplane food – the moment she had taken a bite out of probably the most decadent piece of dark chocolate she had ever tasted, Garcia couldn't help the sudden snarky thoughts as to why she always got left behind in Quantico.

Grumbling to herself, leaning back in her seat, only to catch a few unpleasant details of one of Reid's statistics; causing an involuntary shiver and reminding her once again why she preferred the safety of her lair to field work. Instantly feeling better and slightly petty; forcing Garcia to admit that her rattled nerves were the reason she was such a jittery mess.

Though perhaps it had a lot to do with the fact that Hotchner's foot kept _accidentally_ bumping and gently grazing her exposed ankle, while he sat across from her with his perfected stoic-finesse as he leisurely flipped through the case file; looking cool as a cucumber. Or maybe, just maybe it had something to do with those long callused fingers that belonged to her sculpted sugar shack of a best friend next to her; who sneakily kept slipping his fingers underneath the blanket to caress small concentric circles on the smooth skin of her inner thigh, while wearing that shit eating grin that hadn't left his face the whole morning.

The whole thing was causing her to practically chew off her bottom lip as her manicured nails flitted and tapped across the table; her mind anxiously trying to deduce the probability of self-combustion.

 _Seriously! Were these two not aware that they were sitting on a plane full of profilers!_

This, _this thing_ that she was involved with, had felt beautifully intimate inside the confines of her apartment, had even felt relatively normal inside the diner while the trio of agents ate breakfast, or even at work; though admittedly she had avoided that round table meeting to hide in her lair instead – but now, sitting on the jet, flying across country with the people whom she considered to be family…she couldn't help but to feel like she had _'Penelope-Floozy-Garcia'_ stamped across her forehead.

A little nympho strumpet who had greedily taken every ounce of pleasure from every gentle lick, nipping bite, and rough touch that had her screaming till her voice became hoarse and she forgot the basic rules of hacking.

Her mind was a numb, pleasure filled haze of blissful euphoria that hadn't quite returned to its normal functioning equilibrium and though she considered herself to be a rather consummate actress – she had absolutely no idea how to handle this situation.

Yes, they had talked about a few important things, but neither one of the two brutes had told her how to deal with the curious glances of JJ and Prentiss or how to look Reid and Rossi in the eyes, while she sat there on the jet, trying to act…normal.

As if she didn't know that Derek was quite the dirty talker when he had his rigid length buried deep inside her sopping heat; pressing his body firmly against her, needing to touch every inch of skin, holding her hand while he whispered the sweetest praises into the crook of her neck. Or that she knew how Aaron demanded control; his fingers digging firmly into her soft flesh, roughly contorting her body for his needs – though his dark eyes would soften and crinkle in concern; slowing his rhythm, seeking validation, as he waited for permission before growling his release, but not before taking her over the edge with him.

A shudder rippled down her spine, clenching her toes as those emotions rushed back over her. Keeping her eyes glued on the laptop screen, needing to settle her breathing before she could reengage in the conversation flying around her. Though it didn't take long before she felt the weight of eyes upon her. Quickly glancing around the small cabin only to lock gazes with JJ; cerulean eyes sparkling with merriment, a knowing smile flashing those straight pearly whites.

Penelope gulped; swallowing her heavy tongue, mouth suddenly dry.

 _There was no way that she could know – right?_

Slowly peeling her eyes off of her friend only to land on Emily's smug face; thin brows furrowed in amusement while her lips remained tightly clamped together – though it wasn't until the raven haired beauty brushed her neck, index finger pointedly tapping the skin beneath her jaw, that Penelope got the message.

 _Oh, frickity frack!_

Hand flying to her neck, unable to muffle her surprised gasp – drawing the attention of Rossi; whose stern gaze and coy smirk met her wide eyes from his seat on the couch, as he twirled the thick ball point pen between his fingers, occasionally jotting down notes which he didn't seem to be all that invested in.

Feeling her face flush with the heat of embarrassment; unconsciously shifting away from Derek and tucking her feet away from Aaron – feeling like a walking billboard of debauchery, realizing she forgot to use some serious foundation to cover up that...giant hickey.

Hell she didn't even know which one had marred her skin; marking her for the whole world to see, or rather everyone on the damn team. Her fingers fluttered against the slightly raised red flesh of her neck, and the sharp intake of breath from beside her revealed the culprit.

Glaring daggers at Derek; whose full lips twitched just the slightest and hell the bastard even shrugged his shoulders as he leaned back into his seat; pretending to immerse himself with the case. Huffing in irritation, looking forward only to catch the dark glittering gaze of Aaron, and she had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing as she imagined cartoonish plumes of steam shooting out of his ears.

Slowly raising her purple stiletto foot, gently rubbing it up and down his leg – watching as his shoulders relaxed and his breathing calmed, and that made her feel…quite powerful. She had never had that effect before, hell even Kevin; who was nothing but an overgrown puppy, had never responded to her like that. Her mind raced with all kinds of naughty little things her saucy inner Goddess wanted to do, only for a voice to derail her fantasy.

"So, Garcia," JJ's airy voice called to her. "How was the rest of your night?"

Her heart literally stopped; eyes shooting open, and she froze.

"Garcia?" JJ scooted towards the end of her seat; eyes narrowed with curiosity.

"Huh…what!" she sputtered; watching as Hotch stiffened across from her, while Morgan shot her a grin.

"Yea, Baby Girl," comically wiggling those expressive brows at her. "Looks like you had some… _fun_."

Giving her Chocolate Adonis a rather feral glare, only for him to wink in return.

"She does appear to have what is known as a love bite, or what most would call a hickey," came Reid's statistical input. "Which is usually caused from kissing or suckling, bursting the blood vessels under the skin, and leaving what can often appear to be a bruise," casually flipping to a new page in his novel. "And typically, they can last anywhere from five to twelve days," shaking hair out of his face; finally looking up, only to blush when everyone just stared at him.

"Kid," Rossi snorted; his dark eyes wide with wonder as he stared at the young agent.

" _Any ways_ ," Emily's throaty laugh filtered over from the front of the plane; eyes narrowed on Penelope's neck. "The more important question is…who gave it to you?"

"Oh, was it that sexy dude who bought you that margarita?" JJ grinned, blushing at her own implication.

"Hell no!" Derek growled, obviously regretting having fueled the fire; clearing his throat when JJ raised her brows. "I mean…that guy was a total creep."

Emily; who was too perceptive for her own good, sat back and smirked. "Actually he was pretty charming, well-built and he definitely seemed _interested_."

"If it wasn't him," Rossi narrowed his gaze. "Who was it?"

All eyes shifted to the now beet red Penelope.

"I um…it…was…I…um…," her body flushed from hot to cold; anxiety and guilt seeping into her bones, and she wanted to cry. "It's not…um, it's a bruise-No! A curling iron! Yea-I mean no…I mean…um, it's a burn!"

Mentally face palming herself, for that sounded lame even to her own ears.

And then, to her absolute horror, she cackled – gasping for air as tears pricked her eyes; wanting to grab a parachute and just launch herself out of the jet.

 _Good going, Garcie!_ _If they didn't know that you fucked your boss and best friend before, they certainly knew now!_

Though always her noir hero; Derek came to her rescue, handing her his water bottle and gently rubbing calming circles on her back – gathering some sense, she risked a glance around the cabin only to catch the concerned but comical expressions of JJ and Emily, Reid's utter confusion and Rossi, who looked rather miffed.

"We're halfway to Oregon, we should all be focused on the case," Hotch's stern reprimand, ended the conversation.

Giving Aaron a grateful smile, and tossing her two nosy friends a pointed look; pleased when they both seemed apologetic and went back to discussing the case.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed she glared at both of them; at Hotch for bringing her on this stupid trip and at Derek for trying to ruffle her feathers – huffing with strained irritation; becoming increasingly aware that the two men were both, shamelessly unapologetic. Narrowing her eyes when Aaron arched a brow and smirked, while Derek chuckled and shook his head beside her.

Having the urge to stick out her tongue, only to cross her arms and pout instead.

 _Assholes!_

Was she the only one who remembered that they had recently shared a bed together – and a couch…and her kitchen table, which she unsuccessfully tried not to think about.

Shaking her mind out of those thoughts, only to catch sight of the colorful treats; aggressively unwrapping the handful of candy and shoving them into her mouth – a quick fix to soothe her emotions. But when she went in for the the fifth piece of chocolate, Morgan reached a hand over her slightly shaking one; giving her a gentle squeeze of assurance, at the same moment Hotch stretched his leg out to slide his foot against her outer calf – they were so in tune to her needs it was almost scary.

Though when she really, really thought about it; she realized that their extra attention wasn't all that shocking; for the two alpha males have always been concerned with her well-being. And even though she was a little bitter, and slightly peeved she couldn't help the flux of emotions to wreak havoc on her psyche.

Finding herself blinking away tears from the shame that seemed to be looming over her; threatening to fall down her puffy cheeks, even as the conflicting tingling sensation prickled her skin and coiled pinwheels of desire in her lower gut; pebbling her nipples which strained against the soft cotton of her dress.

 _Great! Now she felt horny and sentimental._

And she grudgingly felt like everyone on the damn jet knew it!

Deciding it was best to just stare out the window and take in whatever scenery she could make out from this high up in the clouds, becoming mesmerized with the baking afternoon sun reflected off the dark, glistening water of Lake Michigan; intrigued by the colorful fields of the Dakota's, leaning closer to view the Seattle skyline - only to startle out of her thoughts when Derek once again discreetly slipped his hands underneath the blanket and firmly grasped her kneecap.

"I'm sorry, Baby Girl," his low, husky voice, had the power to melt her insides – but she was still a smidge angry and not going to allow herself to be easily persuaded.

"You should be."

"C'mon sweetness," hot breath; caressing the smooth expanse of her neck. "Do you forgive me?"

Choosing to ignore him, not trusting her voice, only for her eyes to widen when he slid his large hand further up her thigh – mind cruelly betraying her body, pooling that familiar wet heat of arousal between her legs.

"Morgan!" she gritted out; eyes quickly glancing around the cabin, grateful that no one was looking.

" _Garcia_ ," he whispered; fingers dancing across her bare skin; hiking her skirt up along the way. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. You know I would never intentionally hurt you."

Clamping her eyes shut; hell she had already partially forgiven him five minutes ago, but he didn't need to know that – not when they were playing a game so dangerously, enticing.

Something that so easily calmed her nerves and soothed her soul – something that was becoming both a blessing and a curse.

"Well," she gasped, as his knuckles brushed against her panties. "You did." Eyes flying open; shooting him a challenging glare, only to get lost in the glittering gold flecks of amber as he devoured her with such heated intensity, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up; forcing her to swallow a moan of longing as her body craved his touch.

"Guess I'll just have to…," leaning in just a little closer, fingers delving under lace – gently sliding between the wet heat of her lower lips. "Make it up to you," a commanding growl, that held so much promise.

Her back stiffened; knees raising so suddenly her heels dug harshly into Aaron's shin – causing him to look up with concern. Staring at her, narrowing those ochre eyes as he took in the small movement of Derek's arm, as well as her wide eyes and soft panting breath, and frowned.

 _Oh, Aaron knew alright._

Knew that Derek's long finger was now circling her entrance; callused thumb gently tapping her swollen bundle of nerves – slowly teasing, coaxing the pleasure from between her thighs.

Eyes drifting closed, only to shoot open when the stoic man across the table put both his legs between hers and spread them apart – exposing her under the safety of the blanket.

Glaring, even as his thin lips mouthed to her – _keep them open_.

Biting her lip, feeling Morgan stiffen next to her; watching with bated breath as he casually took a sip of water and flipped to a new page of the case file – but not before tossing her a daring little smirk and plunging two fingers insider her.

"Mmm!" clamping her mouth shut; forcing a dry cough and patting her chest for emphasis when JJ glanced over.

 _Holy Microsoft!_

Manicured nails clutched the pleather armrest; heart racing, pounding in her ears as Aaron's sock clad foot slowly slid up her leg – up the bare expanse of smooth inner thigh, only to find the cleft of her center, and rock firmly into her.

Setting a tantalizing rhythm that she wanted to grind her hips into.

Not to be outdone, Derek crooked his fingers and separated them – a slow, deep soulful stroke, that had her lips parted and head pushed back into her seat.

The burning ache, coiling at the apex of her thighs was agonizingly delicious – forcing her hips to undulate with short frantic swivels; body searching for release.

 _Oh, fuck…sweet heavens!_

Drawing blood from her glossy lips, choking on the strangled sob that wanted to tear from her throat, as the shimmering climax tore through her body – an electric spiral of heat that shot from her head, down her spin; quivering her thighs, and clenching her toes.

"Grrughh," she moaned through gritted teeth.

"Garcia?" JJ's concerned voice drifted over to her. "Are you sick?"

If her mind wasn't muddled with a pleasure induced coma; body giddy with adrenaline – Penelope would probably have the sense to be embarrassed, considering her heated center was still grasping and clenching around Derek's fingers.

Instead she giggled as the ' _Fasten Your Seat Belt_ ' sign flashed to life; saving her from any further explanation.

 _And hell, maybe this trip wasn't going to be so bad after all._

To be continued…


	8. IV:I

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Hello again! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for all of your kind and continued support, and for nominating/voting for this story in the Profiler Choice Awards, y'all are the best and to show my gratitude the next chapter shall be up soon!**

 **Warning: Sexual Situations & Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter IV: Part I

The dazzling white porcelain, looked every bit like the grand luxuriousness, it had been advertised as. It was simply breathtaking and Penelope couldn't wait to sink into the huge, modern clawfoot tub – remembering the beautifully scented gels for the bubble bath she had tucked away in her extra go bag; having been planning to take the soothing soak all day.

A low whistle and shocked gasp, tore her nearly drooling revere away from the tub and the large walk in shower right next to it – which consisted of dark granite swirls, partly frosted glass doors, and a large bench that had conjured up quite the scintillating thoughts – coughing, trying to clear her mind and shake off the blush that heated her face; twirling expertly on those purple heels, and tossing a coy smile at the eager pair standing under the archway into the bathroom.

"You know," Emily grunted. "We never get to stay in hotels this… _extravagant_ , when you stay behind in Quantico?" arching that delicate brow, as a smirk played at her lips.

"Seriously," JJ tutted in agreement, only to gasp again when she spotted the tub. "It's a clawfoot!" walking over and sitting on the edge, as she slowly ran her hand over the cool surface. "Do you think we have one in our room?" she squealed – smiling at Emily, only to glance over at the vibrant blonde; seeming to know Garcia had something to do with this.

"I'm sure you do," Penelope smiled, fingers twisting the silver pendant of her necklace, as she tried not to give away the fact that, yes…she did have, everything, to do with it.

She may have felt a bit miffed on the plane earlier; having to sit there, completely aroused – basking in the titillating bliss of a shimmering climax, leaving her feeling scandalous and embarrassingly needy – an addicted little minx, already craving more.

So taking it upon herself, she might have hacked into the hotel, which the team was originally supposed to be staying at, tweaked a few little things, like maybe the fact that they had accidentally overbooked and therefore had felt the need to, and perhaps because of her own _non-threatening_ encouragements, send them across town to a much nicer, much bigger hotel, that might have been a bit out of the way of the crime scene and police station, but was certainly making this trip to Oregon a helluva lot more worth it to this tech Goddess.

"Yeah, definitely strange," she smiled, peering over those pink frames. "I think they called it…an upgrade."

Emily snorted; crossing her arms in front of her as she leaned against the doorway, fiddling with the golden handle, that was even a bit ornate for her taste. "I'll say."

"Well thank you, my two favorite mortals, for helping me bring my stuff up," changing topics, not wanting to have to explain herself, she waved her hands around and headed back out into the large suite – choosing to ignore the sumptuous bed in the center, with its wrought iron frame and teasingly soft dove grey and black comforter.

Taking the few steps to the lower level, where a wide 'L' shaped couch and a coffee table, which had all her equipment set up, awaited her. Plopping down onto the cushions, she picked up a tablet and busied herself by scrolling through a few sites.

It was now late evening, and exhaustion was slowly creeping in on her already sore body and last nights ragged sleep. Having spent most of the day at the station, easily figuring out clues for her lovely crime fighters, though that of course meant she was bored and had nothing to do for the rest of the day, which had twisted that anxious knot that kept fluttering around in her belly – a little naughty voice that insisted her team knew about the debauchery she had gotten herself into, and not wanting to reveal herself, she had spent the rest of the day trying to justify the reason she was on the trip.

That had led to many small, mundane tasks, which she had purposefully spent a few hours trying to bide her time with, only to snap her sparkly feathered pen in frustration, which only worsened her mood, leading her to find a quick pick-me-up in her favorite hacking hobby.

Which had gotten her into trouble; having been overzealous when she spotted a few viruses on the police department's poor excuse of a computer system. Penelope had fixed them, and then maybe changed a few more things, deleted some other things, and then she had gotten banned from using their computers altogether, and was on the brink of a rather petty tantrum, only for Aaron to have arrived early and thankfully rescue her.

His first name, used so freely, had her fumbling with the tablet as it slipped out of her grasp. Then like a tantalizing taunt, her mind flooded with memories of that afternoon.

* * *

 __ Flashback __

"I wonder what my Unit Chief," she purred, rolling her hips as she peppered his jaw with nipping kisses. "Would say, if he found me…like this."

"She would be, in a lot…of _trouble_ ," he smirked; dark whiskey eyes, narrowing into two glittering pools of ochre, as his fingers dug into the soft flare of her hips.

"You won't tell him," peeking her tongue out, tracing the curve of his jaw as her own fingers twisted those chestnut locks at the base of his neck. "Will you?"

 _Boy, did she feel naughty! Sitting on her boss' lap, in the front of a government SUV, in the back parking lot of some shopping center, during work hours._

 _Yes, Penelope Garcia, was breaking laws and taking names!_

"Fuck," he gritted out, as she latched onto the pulsing point beneath his ear, grazing her teeth as she gently suckled.

"Hmm," she moaned, finding the sandalwood scent of him intoxicating.

His fingers snuck beneath her skirt, lifting the smooth garment, until it revealed those white lace panties, only to shock her when he greedily snapped the thin material – exposing her plump sex, and those light trimmed curls.

"I didn't bring that many panties with me, Aaron," glaring at him, as he shoved the flimsy lace into his pocket.

"You don't really need them, now do you, Penelope?" he shot back, arching a brow, setting that pointed jaw in defiance.

Discovering confidence, she had long since buried – enjoying the freedom of just feeling, allowing herself to trust; letting that brazen Goddess emerge with flaunting pride.

She lowered her hands and slowly loosened his tie; the deep azure bringing out the flashing golden flecks of his eyes, loving the way his jaw ticked with controlled longing.

Though her time for admiring was shattered, when his fingers delved into the fluttering warmth between her legs – drawing out a strangled mewl from her panting lips, as her own fingers stumbled over the buttons of his wrinkled shirt.

"You smell delicious," he murmured; stubby digit circling that bundle of nerves, sending pinwheels of excitement shooting down her spine.

Then that distinct clink of her loosening his belt, followed by the biting tug of his zipper, from her shaking hands, raised the simmering blaze – coiling around the pair, as darkened hazel melted into blistering ochre.

His deft fingers teased her opening; swirling that slick heat, as he slowly, but deliberately, plunged inside – quickly grabbing her waist, holding her down as she bucked against him.

The rippling tension of his muscles underneath her fingers – a finely tuned restraint, he had mastered long ago, had that naughty little Goddess of hers jumping around with glee as an impish thought drew a giggle from her magenta tainted lips.

"Aaron," she panted; reaching a hand inside his boxers, cupping his heated length – pulling a shocked hiss from those thin lips she loved so much. "I wanna…" leaning forward, purring in his ear. "Play a game."

His brows furrowed just the slightest, pupils dilating with arousal as she reached a hand between them and pulled his wrist away from her dripping thighs.

"If you touch me," teasing the sparse curls of his chest as she trailed her manicured nails down his stomach – he didn't have the bulging abs like her favorite Chocolate Adonis, but his stomach was still nicely toned; his warm flesh, soft, yet strong, beneath her hands as she teased his belly button. "I'll stop."

Something akin to a growl, was her only response, and her toothy smile met his when he released her hips; rather begrudgingly, and rested them at his sides – displaying that innate patience, she was going to enjoy breaking.

"Lower the seat," a simple command, one he could follow, but when he hesitated; nostrils flaring with a subtle tick of his jaw – she lowered her hand and gently ran a finger down his throbbing dick; looking up at him through hooded eyes. "Are you disobeying this Oracle?" she inquired with a breathy taunt.

Eyes flashing, as he pointedly arched his hips – causing her to grind down on him; chasing that tantalizing pleasure that quaked her whole body.

"I didn't know you had some Dom in you, Garcia?" reaching a hand down and lowering the seat.

Lifting her hips, she grabbed his black slacks and boxers and tugged them down his knees; eyes never leaving his. "Oh my observant profiler, of course you did."

His smirk, nearly smug in approval, told her that she had been right in her assumption.

Nibbling on that plump bottom lip; she shimmied, making her intentions clear.

A mere moment of shuddering pants and calescent breath, coiled around the suddenly cramped space.

Then she swiftly sheathed his rigid length; a thick iron rod of heated velvet, within her – basking in the stretching fullness, letting her head fall back as her eyes clamped shut.

Until the sudden passing of another vehicle, drew her lust filled mind out of its haze as she squealed; quickly rising, only to tuck closer to him, and sink down on him even more – bursting a strangled grunt from his pursed lips – his hands shooting forward; fingers clutching her waist as he pulled her against him and thrust upward.

"Ooh," she whimpered; momentarily forgetting the rules as she allowed him to lead.

Aaron rocked his hips, rolling her supple body over his – causing a sensual wave to pulse at the throbbing ache between her thighs.

He leaned forward, dropping his face- dipping his tongue between the soft valley of her tits; tasting the kiss of sweat and peachy vanilla that peppered her skin. Dragging his hand up, taking her silk blouse with it, until he grazed the rough lace of her bra – easily finding her pebbled nipple bursting through, and giving it a firm twist.

She yelped, gasping for air as she jerked away – glaring down at him, she slowed the enticing swivel of her hips, and lifted his face; fingers grasping his chin as she forced him to look up at her.

"Oh sir," she purred, leaning closer, capturing his lips with a searing kiss, only to teasingly pull back when his tongue darted out to play – nibbling his lower lip, tugging playfully before soothing the reddened flesh with a teasing lick. "You don't follow orders very well."

"I don't always like to," his graveled voice, muttered with a hint of annoyance as that sizzling arousal flared behind those whiskey eyes, and she almost felt a little bad for making him wait.

 _Almost._

"You know what happens to people who break the rules," biting her cheek; flashing him a cheeky grin.

"Hmm?" his eyes drifted over her heaving chest that rested deliciously close to his face, and she firmly squeezed that defined jaw; easily bringing his attention back towards her.

"Did you bring your handcuffs, Agent Hotchner?" completely enthralled by the roughness of her own voice.

His eyes narrowed, but there was no denying the little smirk that graced his lips.

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

"Earth to Pen!" JJ's flowery laugh floated over her; cruelly yanking her wandering mind from the intimate haven of the SUV to the glitzy art deco hotel room.

Blinking away the lingering remnants of nipping kisses and rough caresses; still able to smell Aaron's scent and feel his heated flesh underneath her – she tried not to blush as her two friends stared intently back at her.

"Where'd you go PG?" Emily grinned, twisting a raven lock, only to pick at a split end as she perched herself on the edge of the coffee table.

"Huh?" she squeaked; having gone from nearly blistering to practically frozen in an instant.

JJ's sneaky hand swept Garcia's honeyed curls behind her back, revealing that glaring mark – a perfect, purple blemish, that marred her neck.

"Ooh, almost forgot 'bout that!" Emily offered the pair some of her favorite minty gum, before taking out two foiled sticks for herself. "You gonna finish that story?"

"What story?" shifting uncomfortably in the soft cushions of the dark charcoal leather couch.

"Oh Garcie!" JJ tutted, crossing a leg as she twisted to stare at her friend. "You didn't even bother to cover it up!"

Something about their knowing smirk's; about JJ's sparkling baby blues and Emily's smug posture as she leaned back and popped a bubble, unsettled Penelope's nerves – feeling that tension, one of guilt and scintillating embarrassment, flare back to life.

"That means the sex was so good, you forgot all about it." Prentiss waggled her brows; nudging Garcia's stiletto with her boot.

Blowing a loose curl out of her face, rolling her eyes as the amused duo giggled next to her.

"Well my dulcet dove and raven beauty," lips quirked with giddy excitement, of wanting to brag to her girlfriends about the best sex of her life – swarmed any wayward doubts, and she tossed the tablet down and scooted closer. "It was fan-frick'n-tastic!"

Emily sprung forward, brows knitted in concentration – poised like the fierce interrogator she was, while JJ propped her elbow on her knee; resting her chin in the palm of her hand, like a child waiting for a story.

"Well umm…," mind swirling with the debauched events of the last 24 hours, and she suddenly didn't know where to start – caught between being unable to share the full truth and hating the fact that she was going to have to lie.

The weight of repercussions, pulsed a nauseating migraine, between her own furrowed brows.

"It was…umm…fun…I had a great time!" she chirped, leaning over Emily to grab her mug of forgotten tea.

" _And_ …" JJ prompted, waving her hand for encouragement; having been antsy all day, dying to know the details of her friends obviously stellar birthday weekend.

"He was tall and handsome…," nibbling her lip, a nervous habit; avoiding the fact that there were _two_ very tall and very handsome men that night.

Smiling; remembering the two men who had flipped her world and shattered all of her beliefs, only for a clearing of the throat to cause her mind to race with something witty to come up with; needing to back track out of this conversation.

"That's nice, but let's get to the sex?" Emily clapped her hands, dramatically rubbing them together.

"The…sex?" swallowing her parched tongue, eyes darting around the room.

And then like an answering prayer, there was a jarring knock at the door.

Penelope shot up, tumbling over her heels, tripping over Emily's legs before high tailing it to the door. Taking a shuddering breath, she tore it open, only to be met with the intimidating form of her Hot Stuff.

His simmering eyes and set jaw; arms crossed, pulling the delectable dark maroon shirt tight around his defined biceps as he stood underneath the wide archway – full of stealth and determination.

"Hello, Baby Girl," he growled, warm amber's devouring her with a fixated perusal of her body – his heated gaze nearly palpable against her already flushed skin.

And once again, Penelope suddenly felt like that little gazelle running for its life in the blistering Sahara.

To be continued...

 **A/N I think we're due for some quality Morcia time, don't ya think! Coming up next!**


	9. IV:II

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Hello again! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for all of your kind and continued support, and for nominating/voting for this story in the Profiler Choice Awards, y'all are the best! This chapter has a third part and will be up very shortly, it's almost complete!  
**

 **Warning: Sexual Situations & Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter IV: Part II

"Oh, God!" she growled, flinging her head back onto the cool porcelain. "Right there!"

His lips quirked, even as his already heavy dick throbbed with that barely tempered arousal, which he had painfully been sporting all day – having accidentally found out about their break-time-rendezvous through an oblivious Reid; eyes narrowing just the slightest, pressing his fingers into the soft curve of her flesh; pulling a keening moan from those full, pouty lips, as he remembered what his boss and Baby Girl had been doing during that extra hour.

" _Oh,_ Godiva God of mine, your fingers are simply magical!" she cooed, daring a quick peep at him, through lidded eyes.

He cupped her smooth calf and lifted it above the warm water; filled with its sweetly enticing, strawberry and lavender aroma, that added to his already feral perusal of the lush woman before him. Dipping his tongue out to lick the divot of her ankle, only for him to pepper her small foot; the tender curve of her arch with opened mouthed kisses – smirking, when she shuddered and scooted closer to him.

Watching her intently; soft hazel eyes now wide, lips parted, as she panted heavily – swirling the bubbles that surrounded and annoyingly covered up those large tits of hers, the soft swells were wet and buoyant inside their porcelain retreat – and oh, how he wanted a glimpse.

Dark, naughty ideas swarmed his lust fueled mind, and he smiled – flashing her a toothy grin; enjoying the faint blush that bloomed upon her cheeks.

"Derek," a shocked, yet needy whimper.

Holding her foot; her cute little toes, painted a striking apple color, as he licked the ball of her foot, waiting just a scathing moment before sucking her toe into the velvet warmth of his mouth.

That was all it took for her to squirm and shoot out of the water – baring those petal pink tips, that had darkened underneath the heat of the bath and from the coursing arousal that so obviously thrummed through her veins, by her dilated eyes, feminine moans and fingers that clutched the edge of the tub for any semblance of control.

He sucked, only to take a slow lick, and then gently, but firmly tap the soft flesh – a teasing reminder of what he wanted to do, of what he damn well could do, between that little pulsing point between her legs.

He released her toe with a wet ' _pop_ ', and then glared at her. "Did you and Hotch, have _fun_ today?" dropping his hand to squeeze her heel, only to slowly, deliberately, trail his way back up her calf; watching as her eyes darted wildly around the room only to nibble on that plump bottom lip as she floundered to think of something.

"What?" a simple response; croaked out, as he grasped the back of her knee.

"What, did you two, _do_?" his voice had dropped; the rough grit of his teeth, pulling her attention back on him.

"I…we…had lunch?" she swallowed; lips quirking into a nervous smile – a sure sign she was lying, and they both knew it.

"Yeah?" shifting his body so her thighs parted and legs fell wide open, over his knees. "What did you _eat_ for lunch?" playing along, enjoying her comical sputter as her mouth hung open and a blush infused her cheeks and chest.

She sat up; half her body now out of the water, only for him to easily tug her onto his lap – receiving a gasp of surprise and pointed glare, only for her to freeze in shock; feeling his heated length – stiff and waiting for her, nestled between the cradle of her hips.

"Something like _this_?" he growled; unaware of the reason, as to why he needed to hear her confession.

He wasn't interested in the sordid details – _hell no_! – but that hankering urge for trust, of being committed to her, and needing her to be open and equally committed to him – to them, whatever they were, was like a haunting visceral demon that whispered doubt inside his already insecure mind, when it came to anything regarding Penelope Garcia.

That spark of heat, of bristling anger at his callous demeanor was expected, but when she pursed her lips and grabbed his dick, giving it a swift, firm tug in those dexterous fingers of hers – he momentarily forgot how to breathe, as a whoosh of air fled his lungs and his jaw locked in place.

"Are we _playing_ , twenty questions, _Morgan_?" she hissed, slowly pressing her thumb into the sensitive spot, beneath the flared head of his already aching member.

That tantalizing balance she had so easily mastered, of doe-eyed innocence and brazen vixen, was captivating – a sensual potency that commanded the feral beast that had remained dormant all these years; watching on the sidelines, waiting to pounce.

"Garcia," he gritted out; nostrils flaring, when she ran the pad of her thumb over the swollen tip.

"You know, this Goddess, has questions too?" she tutted, letting her other hand scrape against the soft skin of his inner thigh, slowly dragging her nails – creating intricate patterns, only she knew the design to.

His hands flew to her waist; fingers clutching the flare of her hips – trying to keep the woman with all the power, under control.

"But," leaning forward, her pink tongue darting out to nibble on his jaw. "What did you want to know?" she purred; peppering him with those familiar open mouthed smooches, capturing his lips with a searing kiss, only to pull back, tugging on his bottom lip when he tried to dominant the velvet duel. "That I rode Aaron…," looking down on him, through thick lashes, licking her lips – tasting him on her, "…like a bucking bronco, until he screamed my name, and begged for me to stop."

His eyes narrowed, lips twisting into a nasty scowl – though there was no denying the twitching pulse of his dick that involuntarily thrust into her hands.

"And once I released him from his handcuffs…," she continued, bringing her hand up to trail against the quivering muscles of his taut tummy, only to lower and hold his heavy sac as she rolled them firmly in the palm of her hand. "…he bent me over that back seat and-," she gasped, losing her purchase above him, as he swiftly lifted her and plopped her back down onto her side of the tub – effectively cutting her off, as she glared up at him, only for her eyes to widen when he stood up.

Penelope took a shuddering breath; biting her bottom lip – mesmerized with the warm droplets of water that cascaded down every divot of his muscles, down his tapered waist and long legs…but the thick shaft, dark and powerful standing at attention, shut off every wondering thought as she sat up on her knees to try and get closer, only to whimper when he got out and walked away.

Derek felt that slithering tension coil down his spine and rest in the churning pit of his gut. Gritting his teeth, needing to step away, before he fucked her senseless – dispelling any lingering doubts of who she belonged to, but it was too soon for that…too soon to tear the bleeding bandage off of years of pent up frustrations, of festering denial they had spent years trying to convince themselves with, only for it to all boil over and reveal the blatant truth upon her polka dotted sheets as they rutted like caged animals; finally set free.

It was a harsh truth, no longer able to be swept under the rug.

That every teasing caress, every naughty flirtatious banter, held a weight to it, that should have been acted on – but which, had been ignored.

And as Derek swung the large glass door to the shower open – turning the water on to nearly scorching; he turned back around and caught her glazed over expression – heaving chest and puckered nipples; all needy and vulnerable, and he knew…they would ignore those questions awhile longer.

"Come here, Penelope," he growled, stepping under the shower head – letting the prickling heat, soothe his aching heart, as his dick pulsed to life.

Watching as she blew a loose tendril out of her face; honey blonde locks held up with a sparkling clip, leaving her hair in a messy, but perfectly sexy updo. She stood up, steadying herself – losing the confidence of her inner nymph; realizing she had pushed him too far – but Garcia was innately curious, and it took but a moment for her to encase herself inside the cocoon of steam.

The door clicking shut; a simple seal of their fate.

* * *

Splashing the cool water onto his face; hating the itchy stubble of his five o'clock shadow. Loosening his tie; tossing the azure fabric onto the counter, as he swiftly unbuttoned his shirt.

Looking up; arching a brow at his appearance – the normally evident tension lines upon his face were gone, replaced with a relaxation that made him look years younger, and the twinkling light in his usually dour eyes didn't go unnoticed.

His lips quirked, and he took a deep breath, letting his shoulders sag as he rolled his neck.

Mind fluttering back towards that afternoon, and the buxom blonde that gave his life renewed meaning, and he couldn't help the stirrings of arousal flare with vigor, pushing against his black slacks and the restraint of his belt.

Gritting his teeth, fully aware that Penelope was with Derek, having overheard the conversation from JJ and Prentiss as they made their way past him in the lobby.

He had plastered a stoic frown upon his face, denying their offer for dinner, as he quickly made his way towards his and Derek's room, which by his tech's handy work, was conveniently adjoined to Penelope's. In fact, their rooms were the only one on this floor, tucked safely at the end of the hall, away from other guests, and the probing eyes of their team.

Heading back into the dark and spacious bedroom; untucking his shirt, releasing the last button, revealing the soft white tank underneath – he threw the wrinkled garment over the still made bed, and kicked off his shoes.

Casting a disdained glance at his briefcase, the case files, open and unsolved – there was nothing they could do; no more evidence that could be gathered until, unfortunately, another body showed up. His jaw ticked, hating the cruel demand of his job – feeling the cankerous fear gnaw at his insides, as he stood there powerless, unable to help their next victim…and that usually frozen space beneath his ribs, pulsed with yearning – a vulnerability that needed comforting.

His body ached for it – a primal hunger, nearly starving for attention.

And there was no denying his newfound addiction – of what he wanted.

What he needed…

How he craved, Penelope.

The jarring knock at the door, pulled his mind out of the gutter – shaking the image of her beneath him; panting, screaming his name as he pummeled his hips deep within her slick heat.

Grunting, quickly making his way to the door, but not before checking his holster and peering through the little peep hole; catching sight of the pimpled face teen, who was bobbing his head to the music coming from his one dangling ear piece.

Swinging the door open, reaching for his wallet as he eyed the young man; his lanky frame too small for his red vest and matching pants.

The teen stood wide eyed; ripping his headphone out, flashing Hotch a toothy grin. "Room service," he added lamely, awkwardly gesturing to the food cart.

Taking out a couple of bills to tip the kid, his hand froze, when a guttural scream filled the quiet, and empty hallway.

Recognizing that voice instantly; how in just a few short days, he knew it belonged to Penelope – that deep sensual groan, that could only mean one thing – had him crumpling the money in his clenched fist, as anger coiled beneath his chest.

"Damn, they sure are having fun, huh?" the teen smiled, only to blush when a stream of piercing moans filtered through next door.

Penelope's harsh _"Oh God…Yes…Derek!"_ was the final straw, and he was about to slam the door on the teen's face and march on over there, when his next words stopped him.

"Wish I could have a piece of that sweet ass," the teen mumbled, unaware of the dark look that crossed Aaron's face. "I served her some tea earlier," letting out a low whistle, as he held his hands dramatically out in front of his chest in imitation. "That beauty has some tits on her!"

Only to step back suddenly when Aaron was towering over him; dark whiskey eyes spitting fire. "Shut up," he gritted out, tossing the crumpled dollar at his chest, as he yanked the cart into the room.

"Hey, dude!" the boy yelled, puffing his scrawny shoulders out. "This ain't enough!"

Aaron dropped his hand, resting it above his belt – smirking when the teen, stopped in his tracks, having caught sight of the badge and gun.

"I don't want to see you near her room, or this one, while we're here!" Hotch growled, the harsh lines of his face etched with unblinking fervor. "Do you understand?"

The boy nodded, holding his hands up as he tripped over his feet and hightailed it back down the hallway.

Slamming the door; practically seething, he paced the short distance of the room – dinner long forgotten as he tried and failed to settle his nerves.

Hearing that keening whimper – like a siren calling out to sea; a carnal lure that had every nerve ending standing at attention.

Taking a calming breath, he yanked open his adjoining door, and smirked when hers twisted unlocked – pleased with her ability to follow orders, having asked her to keep it open during their stay.

He wasn't prepared to catch them on the bed, and sent a quick thank you up to whoever was listening, when he found the bed bare of the two occupants, only to frown when he discovered the bedroom and partitioned living room empty.

But the heavy grunting – feminine cries and manly growls, coming from the bathroom, where the shower could be heard watering over them, had him gritting his teeth; jaw ticking with crushed awakening.

And without thought, he stepped closer – drawn to the erotic noise behind the slightly opened door, pushing it open with his sock clad foot; blinking away the steam that greeted his face, only to hiss a sharp breath between his teeth at the vision before him.

Penelope's creamy legs were wrapped around Derek's lean waist, her arms clutched tightly around his shoulders; one hand digging into the flesh of his back while the other hung on to his neck.

Her eyes were cinched tight; cheeks bloomed red, hair damp against her face as breathy moans slipped from her parted lips.

"Oh fuck!" she cried, dropping her head back, eyes fluttering open, only to widen when she spotted him standing beneath the door way.

"Derek," she rasped out, and it was then Hotch caught the movement of Derek's arm between her legs – expertly playing her sensitive flesh, as if he had been doing it for years.

And that spark of jealously roared to life, at how in-tune the pair seemed to be.

Aaron's legs locked into place, watching with narrowed eyes as Penelope leaned closer – whispering something in Derek's ear; catching how the darker man faltered, head turning back, having sensed the other man's presence, only to renew the vigor of his hips as he pummeled into the ripe woman he had forced against the cool granite tiles.

Penelope's pouty lips granted him a coy smile, hazel eyes sparkling with arousal and Aaron felt his dick twinge with need, when she shattered in Derek's arms – convulsing; as dirty words filled the space, and Morgan continued his relentless rhythm, never easing up.

Her rough groan; needy and desperate, pulled Aaron closer to the glass stall – his breathing shallow; feeling deliciously naughty, weighed down with insecurity and fierce desire, and admittedly he had never felt so aware, so alive, as he watched them fuck against the shower wall.

Her throaty moan, broken between gasps as Derek rocked into her. "Are you…just gonna watch us…Aaron…," she whimpered, lips pursed into a pout. "…or join us?"

His nostrils flared, and it took but a moment for him to respond.

To be continued…


	10. IV:III

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Hello again! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for all of your kind and continued support! Also, thank you so much, this story got Runner Up in the Profiler Choice Awards, so to honor y'all I have made this chapter a long one!  
**

 **Warning: Strong Sexual Situations & Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter IV: Part III

Her body was blistering; nearly explosive with sensation.

The shimmering release of her climax had left her body lax in Derek's arms, as he continued the breathtaking pace, and she could only whimper as her body coiled back to life – clenching the solid weight of his member as he slammed his hips back into her.

"Oh, Derek…no…I can't," she moaned, trying to claw up his chest, only for him to hold her in place.

"Open up for me, Baby," he growled, latching on to the wet skin of her neck as he nibbled and suckled on the tender flesh – marring her skin; claiming her as his.

Penelope was stuck on the precipice of another impending release – wanting, needing to lose control, but this would be her third one; her swollen flesh already sensitive, nearly painful as her body stretched to accept his length.

"Show him, Pen," he grunted, his thumb slowly tracing circles on that bundle of nerves between her thighs. "Show him, what I can do to you. How beautiful you look, when I make you cum."

"Oh, God!" head dropping back, slamming into the cool granite – eyes clenching shut, only to shoot open when she heard Aaron's belt hit the floor. Standing before the shower completely naked, his body taut with tension – eyes glittering with arousal, and slick heat pooled between her thighs as she fluttered around Derek, who hissed in response. "Too much…I can't…," she groaned, wanting to stop, even as she rolled her hips – seeking that fervid relief, only the men before her could grant.

The glass door opened, letting in a cool draft of air; momentarily soothing her overheated flesh, only to click in place, and infuse the glass encasement with renewed heat – a nearly indecent, tantalizing fervor of shameless hunger.

It was that carnal pull; a freedom of judgement and responsibilities – the breaking of explicit boundaries; exposing their vulnerability with raw abandonment, that had Aaron stepping closer and willingly entangling himself in the devastating web of their sensuous tryst.

Aaron was on Penelope in a second, hand clutching her waist, and she barely had time to register the quick flash of purple, before she felt the vibrating pulse nestled at the apex of her thighs – and the shattering scream flew from her lips as shock waves of electric heat jolted through her shivering body.

"Oh, fuck, fuck… _fuuuck_!" she cried, head shaking back and forth, only for Derek to slow his pace – keeping fully inside of her; rocking his hips with that tormenting rhythm, as Hotch swirled the bullet around her pulsing clit.

"You want us to stop?" Hotch growled, an impish smirk dancing across his face.

She panted; vision blurring – feeling the control slip from her waning grasp, but she held on – knowing the ache, throbbing steadily between the fullness of her core, was going to quake and shatter her body.

Then like a cruel taunt, Aaron raised the speed; firmly placing it on that spot, which he had easily discovered the other day was a pulsing point, and rolled it around her soft, swollen flesh – watching through hooded eyes as Penelope gasped, losing her grip on Derek's shoulder as she quickly reached out, hand slipping across the cool, wet granite; nails scratching – furiously seeking purchase, only to glare at her boss and clutch his shoulder, as she desperately hung on for dear life.

"No…no…I…please, fuck!" she thrashed; unable to make sense of her own incoherent babbles.

"What are you waiting for, Penelope?" Derek gritted out; face contorted in concentration as he slowly slid out, only to thrust back in, drawing a grunted wail from her panting lips.

The simpering heat twinkling behind those piercing amber eyes – told her that he was far from finished, and would wait her out, and as his large hand snaked up the flare of her hip and the curve of her waist to squeeze her heavy breast; nipples puckered with longing – realization washed over her; she had lost…

But oh, how rewarding, it would be.

His deft fingers, rolled the tender pink tip; a methodical twist and tug, that had her contract around him – causing him to drop her waist, spreading her legs wider and sinking him that much deeper within her.

"I…I…Oh my... _God_!" clamping her eyes shut, as fiery pinwheels coiled in her gut – shooting down her spine and into her legs, splintering at the base of her neck; convulsing, as she climbed the peak and rode each clenching wave shamelessly.

Only for Derek to pin her back in place; his strong form molding perfectly against her soft curves, as he lifted her leg just a little higher – both men determined; nearly relentless, as they drove her over the edge two more times – forcing Penelope to surrender all control, and simply, feel.

Blinding stars shattered her vision, as sweet, calming words were whispered in her ear, but it did little to ease her mind back from that blissful plane as her body crumpled; content and sated in Derek's strong arms.

Long, languid moments later, the comforting lull of fingers massaging her scalp and drenched honey locks with that familiar fruity shampoo, helped pull her drowning mind back from that lustful haze and she finally blinked her eyes open.

Discovering she was perched on her Hot Stuff's lap, who was taking up the large granite seat; tucked along the wall, where the giant overhead shower still encased them in warmth. His large, calloused hands, ran soothing patterns up and down her wet body, as he suckled gently on the soft flesh of her neck; effectively calming her down.

She moaned, rolling her head back across his shoulder, granting him more access, only to register that it was Aaron's hands that were washing her up. He was doing it with learned, almost loving patience – caring for her like a child, and she felt a smile tug at her lips when she realized what a rare gift it was to see him so openly tender.

Derek eased her forward, rubbing her shoulders – driving away knots of tension; causing her to nearly drool with heavenly pleasure at the alluring sensations, fueled by Aaron's reverent rinsing of her hair.

"Mmm," she moaned, feeling safe and secure; so easily able to fall asleep.

An amused chuckle from above, broke the silence, and had her peeking an eye open – feeling her skin taint with a flush of embarrassment when she looked up and caught sight of Aaron's large member; stiff with arousal, swaying so enticingly near her face.

"Is that Hotch Rocket, for moi?" she giggled suddenly aware; feeling the stirrings spark back to life, as she lifted her hand and swiftly grasped his length inside her small palm.

A strangled grunt tore from his throat; brows furrowed, swirling whiskey eyes narrowed with restrained virility and when she felt Derek's heated breath cascading over her skin – his fingers clutching her hips, seemingly drawn to her actions…Penelope never felt more, powerful.

Giddy with excitement, she shot her other hand out; nails digging into Aaron's waist, tugging him forward, only for her puffy lips to wrap around his swollen head.

"Fuck," he practically snarled; hands entangling in her honey tendrils, holding her in place.

She hummed, sending vibrations shooting down his dick, causing his toes to curl as he stumbled forward. Then like the little minx she was, she innocently looked up – batting her eyes at him, only to brazenly lift his member and teasingly tap it against her pursed lips; her pink tongue darting out to lick the sensitive patch beneath the head.

"Holy shit," Derek grumbled, and she couldn't help the coy smile from gracing her features, when she felt his own arousal spring back to life against her thigh.

"You're playing a dangerous…game, Garcia," Hotch tried to grit out, though only managing an exasperated gulp; failing to use her last name as a tactic to gain control, but the lush woman forged through the warnings – opening her mouth wide and pulling him into her velvet heat, only to greedily suck – feeling victorious when he shot his hands out to brace against the wall.

A feral grin flashed upon his face; letting her play for a simmering minute, until he had enough – easily releasing himself; yanking her hair back, until her head rested on Derek's broad shoulder.

She groaned in shock, tears prickling her eyes at the sudden command, though there was no denying the betrayal of her body as slick heat pooled between her legs and her nipples strained with that thrumming ache.

Crouching down; leaning close, voice dropping with that tone of authority.

"Remember what you said in the car, _Garcia_?" drawing her name out; eyes glittering with smug satisfaction.

"Oh, I…," biting on her lip, feeling Derek tense beneath her, as his fingers trailed like hot daggers upon her skin; playing with the soft underside of her breasts.

"Go ahead, Penelope…," Aaron brought his hand up; cupping her cheek, thumb trailing beneath her plump bottom lip. "…tell Derek what you said."

Morgan shifted; eyes blazing as he looked back and forth between the pair – his stoic expression hiding the quick flare of jealously, even as that scintillating desire snaked down his spine.

Penelope grumbled, suddenly sober with consequences.

Leaning forward, licking the shell of her ear, before nibbling on the spongy flesh; Derek's deep timber washed over her. "What did you do, Sweetness?"

Aaron having lost the last confines of his patience, gripped her cheeks and captured her lips with a searing kiss – easily dominating; plundering her velvet cavern with mastered finesse and rough agility.

She whimpered, rolling her hips over Derek's knees; trying to assuage the ache that blazed between her thighs, only for Aaron to release her abruptly and take a step back.

Dazed; body sweltering with titillating need, she slumped against the hard planes of Morgan's body, only for Hotch's booming voice to slam her back down to earth.

"Get up," voice dark; an alluring rasp.

And then she remembered.

Her whispered promise – in the heat of the moment.

 _I'll do anything you want._

Made so willingly as she rode him, with the afternoon sun beating down on them – feeling bold and daringly defiant.

Though now, as the intimidating form of her lover towered over her, as the other one held on to each word beneath her – she suddenly felt like a small, shy little girl about to be devoured by the big bad wolf.

Two big, bad wolves.

Her body clenched; twisting with deep fervor – ignoring her fierce appetite that craved and eagerly basked in the scathing attention that both men devoured her in.

Taking a shuddering breath; staring the taller man down.

"Your mortal wish, is this Oracle's command," she purred, enjoying the tick of his jaw, as she swayed her hips, albeit wobbly, and walked past him – giving both men a simpering look, only to linger fervently on Derek, before leaving the bathroom.

Swallowing his suddenly parched tongue – mind racing with sinful thoughts of what he wanted to do to that sweet, round ass of hers, only for Hotch's gruff voice to pull him out of his reverie.

"I need her tonight," his voice cracked; confessing his insecurity – that he needed something, needed the soothing balm that was Garcia, which Morgan so easily understood, in order to heal the panging grief that haunted his life.

Though the trust; a devout respect that each man held for the other was evident – Hotch left little room for denial of his request.

"I wasn't finished," Derek gritted out; palming a handful of water, only to swipe it across his face.

"I'm not asking you to leave," Aaron shrugged, knowing his limits.

"Good," standing up, and stepping out of the heated shower. "Because I need her too." Derek tossed him a towel before grabbing one off the rack and following Penelope out the door.

* * *

Swishing the roasted fruitiness around her mouth, before taking another giant swig of the Pinot noir; not her favorite wine, but a bitter remedy she needed, Penelope waved the bottle around as Derek exited the bathroom.

"Lookie, Boss man bought us dinner!" she cheered, gesturing to the cart near the doorway.

Derek grabbed a seasoned fry off the plate, popping the now warm treat in his mouth, only to take the bottle and guzzle a good portion down.

"Hey, that's for all of us!" she laughed, peering over his broad shoulder only to blush when she caught Aaron's heated gaze across the room.

"I wanted to use handcuffs," came Hotch's sensual rasp, that tingled her spine with awareness. "But Morgan will work instead."

The darker man froze; eyes narrowing as he wiped the dark liquid off his full lips, and then tossed Penelope a charming smirk, though there was no mistaking the intensity bristling behind his eyes.

"You make a lot of promises, Princess," Derek's voice rumbled; slithering over her like a Sahara wind. "Making debts that little ass of yours, is going to have to pay for."

Penelope gulped, feeling like a match had been struck against her already scorching body.

Stepping around her, until he stood directly behind her, dropping his head into the crook of her neck – hot breath tickling her warm flesh, as he whispered so only she could hear. "I want a day all to myself," he growled; hand coming up to grip her waist, fingers clutching the soft swell of her belly. "Do you understand?"

She nodded her head, wanting to lean against him, completely entranced by his rough nature – one he had always teased her with, having exquisitely disguised it under flirtatious banter, though admittedly, she was not prepared for the full effects of his domineering attitude.

"You have to tell me, Baby Girl," giving her cheek a gentle kiss.

"Yes," she moaned.

"Yes, _what_?" the harsh demand sent a shiver of need coiling in her lower gut, as her nipples puckered, straining once again for attention.

Lifting her head, finally glancing at him – breath hitching, as she caught the emotional turmoil that danced across his face for the briefest of moments.

A look that held so much…promise – one which had kept her up at night; hoping that someday her best friend would look at her with as much adoration that he so often seemed to have for the many women before her; who had been lucky enough to share his bed.

The knife twisted in her gut – a callous reminder of what she had been missing out on all these years. Why Penelope probably should have asked the questions that had been teasing her mind since the moment Derek had eagerly swept her off those killer stilettos that passion fueled night at the club.

Though, sadly, the moment was fleeting – disappearing, as Morgan took another hefty swig; easily masking his faltered exposure, with a hardened look of false indifference.

Blinking; unable to quell the miffed rejection that always seemed to linger, like a dark cloud – an unspoken taboo, over the inseparable duo. Taking a shuddering breath, Penelope swallowed the boiling emotions, and turned her heated gaze upon Aaron.

Hoping to find some semblance of control amongst the blistering desire that had snaked its way around the room, like a poisonous serpent eager to strike.

"Sit on Morgan's lap," a simple command, spoken by a glowering Hotch – standing underneath the adjoining doorway; holding the smooth azure tie, tauntingly in his hands.

His simmering perusal; nearly palpable from across the room, sent a zing of unbridled excitement shooting through her body.

Derek squeezed her hip with that familiar, comforting gesture; easily slipping into his charming innocence, which had been used like duct tape to hold their friendship on the cusp of teetering lovers for years. "C'mon, Baby Girl," he purred; giving her a gentle push towards the lavish bed at the center of the room.

Easily lifting the heavy comforter and sheets off the bed, Derek flung it over the couch, leaving the bed stripped to the bottom sheet, and Penelope thought briefly to run far away, only to feel her toes flex into the plush cream carpet beneath her as she stood rooted to the spot; nibbling on her lip – feeling that deep pulse spread fire throughout her body as her nipples tingled with awareness.

Next, he tossed a few lavish throw pillows across the room, barely missing a lamp, only to shrug his shoulders and plop down at the top of the bed. Leaning against the large head board, looking like an exquisite Greek God, with his beautiful dark toffee skin – still glistening from the shower; muscles rippling with tension, as he waited.

Penelope stared, and stared some more – blushing with chagrin at her unwillingness to look away, nearly drooling with want at that stiff thickness between his legs; perched against his belly, waiting for her, though that smug smirk that flashed his pearly whites, had her gaze shifting quickly to her sparkly toes, only to gasp in shock when cold wetness touched her neck and trailed slowly down her spine.

Like a python squeezing its prey Aaron's arm wrapped around her before she could escape – the soft hairs of his arm, tickling the sensitive flesh of her breasts, as he held her in place. Taking the ice cube and playing with it against her heated skin.

"Are you aware Morgan," he tutted, voice graveled and painted with amusement. "That Miss Garcia was kicked out of the police station today."

Derek snorted, giving a pert nod; eyes twinkling at Penelope. "I heard."

"You have a hard time obeying orders…," with the ice melted, his hand came down to grip the full flesh of her ass. "Don't you, Garcia."

Lifting her nose in the air, chin raised in defiance. "That was not my fault!" she huffed. "I got rid of at least ten viruses, sped up their systems, and added better security. Besides I should have been locked away in my precious lair, but _you_ decided to bring this Oracle out to Oregon!"

The swift smack across her plump cheek was jarring – a searing sting, that had her mouth hanging open; eyes wide in shock, and a low growl coming from Morgan, who had uncrossed him arms to sit up straighter.

"That wasn't a question," hand coming around to grab the front of her sex, playing with the soft, tuft of trimmed curls, as his finger slid teasingly between the slick folds. "I wanna… _play_ a game."

Growling out her own words she had so brazenly spoken in the safety of the SUV; had her legs parting with longing, even as her mind raced with endless possibilities – each thought more erotic than the last.

"You like to play games," lowering his hand, until he grasped the back of her thigh – lifting her leg, which was still lax with pleasure, until her foot rested on the edge of the bed – flashing Derek a beautiful view of the swollen, pink flesh between her legs.

"N-No…I…," she sputtered, as his fingers fluttered over the soft skin of her inner thigh – a slow tease to her heated center.

"You're not a liar, Garcia," he hissed; hot breath tickling the crook of her neck. "Don't start now."

Then her actions from that weekend, of giving them a show with her favorite toy as Derek helped send her over the edge, while Aaron talked to Dave over the phone, came slamming back into her with realization.

 _Oh, was she in trouble._

"You know, I always wondered if your tits looked as perky and ripe as they do underneath those flashy dresses you wear," his fingers grazed over her flesh, parting her inner lips, causing her to lean against him as her hips rocked forward, seeking that heady fullness. "And they do not disappoint."

"Play with them," Derek's throaty growl, had her blurry gaze narrow on her best friend – his eyes nearly obsidian; nostrils flared as his body sat poised with tension. "Nu uh, don't be shy now, Baby Girl."

A nervous giggle bubbled over, as she was reminded once again of what she was doing, and with whom. It wasn't everyday Penelope found herself in such a precariously naughty situation, and her lifelong insecurities made a sudden appearance, causing her anxiety to blunder the moment.

Clamping her leg shut, pulling away from the strong man behind her – feeling suddenly petite without her heels, only for Aaron to spread her leg wide open and hold it in place, as his other hand gripped her waist and tucked her close to his own protruding member as he thrust upward and against her slick heat.

"Shh, you're okay," he whispered, rocking his hips as she slowly calmed down. "But I suggest you do what Morgan said."

She had locked her gaze on the ornate painting above Derek's head, but as her nervous energy dissipated, and she finally looked back down, only to see the strength her Hot Stuff was using to stay seated, and Aaron's heavy panting coming from behind her; she found that lingering pride and felt the coy grin pull at her lips.

Taking a shuddering breath, she ran her hands along the smooth expanse of her belly, only to cup her breasts, and give them both a gentle squeeze but as Aaron ground harder into her – she latched onto the throbbing tips and gave them a greedy tug, rolling the sensitive flesh; trying to assuage the ache that thrummed like an endless jolt throughout her body.

"Mmm," she moaned, head falling back against his chest – dropping a hand; feeling suddenly bold, she sunk her hand between her legs, easily finding the pulsing nub and swirling her manicured finger around it. "Oh fuck," she cried, only to have her hand yanked away as another swift smack stung her ass.

"He said to touch your tits, not your clit," Hotch gritted out, dropping her leg; letting her collapse onto the mattress. "Since you can't listen, we'll have to play my way."

The cool, soft satin of azure greeted her vision as he lifted it and waved it gently in front of her face.

"Stand up," a simple command, one she was too excited to ignore.

Though, that didn't mean she had to show the two dominating men, that little fact.

Slowly standing up, pulling a face of indignation, only for him to arch a knowing brow – clearly seeing through her façade. Turning her around, she was expecting him to bind her hands with a tricky knot, which she would have to whittle the knowledge of how he learned it out of him, only for him to bring the soft material over her eyes and tie it securely behind her head.

Effectively leaving her in the dark, and now she was actually a little pissed.

"Hey, that's not fair," she fussed, lifting her hand, only for him to smack it away.

Not being able to see; to leave her trust fully in their hands, raised the stakes of this daring game to a whole other level.

Gripping her shoulder, trailing his thumb down the indent of her spine, until his large palm rested over the swell of her ass. "Go ahead, sit on Morgan's lap," he growled, fingers clutching her flesh.

She wanted to grumble that he had left her blind, but deciding that wasn't the best idea for her sore, and what she knew to be reddened cheeks, she clambered her way up onto the soft mattress and with Derek's help, found herself nestled comfortably between his strong legs.

"Really? This is silly!" she blurted out, when the silent room became overbearing to her clouded senses.

Her hair was slightly damped, barely starting to curl, as it laid sprawled across Derek's shoulder, and he couldn't help but to bury his face between his favorite locks and bask in the strawberry aroma.

Understanding of what Hotch wanted; he scooped his hands beneath her knees and lifted them up, until they rested over his own legs. She gasped, when he spread them apart, leaving her open and deliciously vulnerable.

Out of habit, her hands shot down between her legs, covering herself only for Morgan's admonishing tsk of disapproval, had her slowly lifting them to hover over her belly, only to huff in annoyance and cross her arms.

"I'm taking this off," making the mistake of reaching for the tie, Derek swiftly grasped her wrist and pinned it against her side.

"Look, hard head," he chuckled, though it lacked his normal twinkling merriment. "Listen, and this will be a lot easier for you," dipping his head lower, to pepper her neck with kisses – finding that pulsing point beneath her ear, and gently suckling.

The mattress shifted with Aaron's weight as he climbed between their legs, and she held her breath.

And as the minutes slowly ticked away and nothing happened, she struggled to sit up, only for that familiar wet chill; pressed firmly at the throbbing point at the apex of her thighs, to send a shivering jolt down her spine as a shriek tore from her throat.

"Oh…oh, no," she cried, shaking her head, only for Derek to grab her other hand, locking them over her legs as he held her in place.

Aaron was no help; swirling the ice cube over her clit, in a taunting rhythmic circle, that had her mewling, as a painful fervor and shimmering arousal flushed her body.

Spinning on a precipice of wanting to stop, but needing more – feeling heat pool between her thighs; shocked at the grasping ache that seared her insides with longing.

Lowering the melting cube, swirling it around her slick entrance, gathering that salty, sweet essence he had come to crave – satisfied, he lifted the small remnant of ice to her lips, tracing the plump bottom flesh; smiling when she got the message.

Penelope gasped, leaning into Morgan, only to open her mouth and accept the cool treat – feeling a scant bit impish, as she rolled the melting chip around her mouth, moaning when Aaron's warm breath blew over her cool, tingling flesh.

"Oh my…stars and garters!" she sputtered, quickly swallowing the cube before she choked.

Then his tongue greedily lapped at her entrance; licking his way up, tapping the little, sensitive nerve with his tongue, only to wrap his mouth around her clit and suck.

The explosion of electric pinwheels ricocheted like a torrent storm, from her head down to her feet, and she shattered. Derek, having released her arm, brought his large hand up to palm her breast; squeezing the soft flesh, tugging on her pebbled tips that ached for the same attention between her legs.

Allowing her hips to grind eagerly into Aaron's face; clutching his chestnut locks as she held him in place – seeking more pleasure that his tongue lashed out of her.

"Oh, please… _please_ , don't stop," she cried, head rolling back, eyes clamped shut – only to feel the sharp twist of her nipple.

Glaring at Derek, though her face was crumpled in bliss and barely effective.

"Keep them open," his voice a rough grit, causing her toes to curl under his heated gaze.

His blunt nail dug into her soft flesh, and she quickly nodded her head. "Yes, yes…okay, oh god…just please," what she was asking for was beyond her; she couldn't even remember her birthday.

As the first lull of her climax faded, she had but a moment to recover, before Aaron grabbed another ice cube, and started all over again.

And again.

And again, until she was panting – back arched against Derek, head thrown back, feet digging into the mattress as her hips shot into Aaron's face; trying to get away as she screamed her pleas for them to stop.

Her hair was now dried into tangled curls, as she laid in a crumpled heap between Derek's legs – slowly opening her eyes, she was embarrassed to find Aaron's smug grin, and the dark, wet spot on the dove grey sheet – completely aware of the sticky essence coating her smooth inner thighs.

Breathing heavily, she was about to crack a joke about not needing to work out, when Hotch towered over her, clutching the backs of her knees and hauling her ass easily down the bed, until she was spread open with him between her legs.

And before she could catch her breath, he thrust into her slick heat – pinning her to the mattress as she gasped for air.

Her hands shot up, scratching at his back – seeking purchase to tether her back to reality only for Derek's strong grip to grab her wrists and hold them above her head, and over his thigh.

Aaron slid a hand up her own thigh, lifting her leg over his shoulder as he dropped her other leg around his waist – forcing her to accept all of him, as he pulled out and pummeled his hips back into her.

"Oh, fuck me!" she groaned – both of them grunting, cascading hot breath over their sweaty bodies.

Her head lolled to the side, trying to catch her breath, only to catch sight of Derek's hand sliding over his thick length, and she felt giddy with excitement.

Twisting her upper body, she caught Derek's shocked expression – raised brows and little smirk, as she put her hand over his larger one, and helped guide his release.

Aaron, not wanting to be outdone, rocked into her, leaning closer – pushing her knee into the mattress as he captured her bouncing tit in his mouth. Teeth grazing over the soft flesh, as he suckled.

Penelope jerked, fumbling her hand – giving her boss a pointed glare, who stared over the swell of her breast with narrowed eyes.

Growling she leaned further back, head resting on Derek's thigh, and with a winning smile, she shooed his hand away and brought his dick into the velvet heat of her mouth – drawing a shocked hiss of approval from her suffering Adonis.

Releasing him with a wet pop, struggling to keep control as Hotch swiveled his hips – hitting that patch of nerves deep within her; shooting stars behind her closed eyes.

"My little gamer," Aaron grunted through panting breaths. "How you love to play."

She raised a perfectly manicured brow, and then greedily sucked the head of Derek's length – feeling victorious when both men growled in frustration.

Bringing her other leg up over his shoulder, slamming into her with abandon – letting her tits rock with the force, Aaron could feel his toes curl with an impending release when a harsh booming knock froze the trio.

"One of you better answer this door!" bellowed Rossi's deep timber.

"Oh my god!" Penelope eyes shot open, bolting upwards only to smack her forehead into Aaron's – feeling horrible when he groaned in pain. "Oh, sir!" she cried, trying to sit up, only for him to push her back down. "I'm so sorry."

"Just because I'm older, doesn't mean I can't kick this thing down!" Dave yelled, and which door he was standing at was up for debate, but the twinkling of anxiety coursed through her veins like fire at the fear of being caught – especially in this position.

"Get up, get up!" came her harsh whisper, tears prickling her eyes.

Though neither man moved, both seeming to be stuck in the haze of pleasure that still coursed through each of them…and oh, god…

 _Did the room smell like…sex?_

Penelope blanched, mind racing with a million things that could go wrong, and as she struggled to move, only to find herself biting her lip – stifling her moan, as Aaron smiled and rolled his hips; assuaging the ache that still pulsed fervently between her legs.

"All I have to do is flash my badge downstairs and get a key," the annoyed agent grumbled from outside.

"Hey, Morgan," Hotch rasped out. "How about you take care of that," catching Derek's narrowed gaze and tense posture; he smirked. "I'm a little busy," spreading her legs wider, pulling out only to thrust back in.

Penelope moaned – body betraying her as she arched back into the imposing form above her; only to gasp, when Aaron dropped her leg to clamp a hand over her mouth to quiet her.

Remembering that Rossi was there, and clearly intent on entering their room.

Feeling the bed shift, watching as Derek quickly wrapped a towel around his waist – taking a moment to listen for the knocking, only to head through the adjoining door of their shared room and disappear into the dark.

She heard the door open at the same moment Aaron's stubby digit circled her clit – causing her eyes to roll back, and panic to sweep through her.

 _Oh, Garcie! What did you get yourself into?_

To be continued…


	11. IV:IV

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Hello again! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone, for all of your kind and continued support! Also, have no fear my muse hasn't left me and all of my stories will be continued. Sorry for the long delay in updates, I just recently graduated college and have been moving these last two weeks, as well as dealing with a few other hectic life things. But enough about me, this chapter is a bit longer than normal and is my gift to you all, for your patience :)**

 **Warning: Strong Sexual Situations & Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter IV: Part IV

The plush terry cloth wrapped around his waist scratched at his skin, making him fidget nervously on his bare feet. Taking a steadying breath, contorting those handsome features – expressive brows, deep set eyes and that pointed jaw, into what he hoped was smug indifference, as he stared the older agent down.

"Morgan," Dave's frustrated growl greeted him beneath the warm, unforgiving lights of the deserted hallway.

"Rossi," Derek nodded; tightening his towel, before crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. "What's up?"

"You didn't answer your phone," that bite of accusation didn't go unnoticed.

"Oh," shrugging his shoulders, attempting a goofy grin but the flash of his teeth diminished any humor. "I didn't hear it go off."

Rossi's narrowed gaze caused Derek's lax posture to shift; stiffening with tension as he tried to block the view of the darkened room behind him.

"Garcia didn't answer her phone either," stubby fingers tugging the bottom of his wool blazer. "Should I be worried?" eyes darting to the stream of light peeking out from the open crack of the adjoining door.

"Do you need something, Dave?" using his first name; a rare occurrence that twisted the fine wrinkles upon his face into shocked audacity.

Shaking his head, he was just about to respond, when a muffled moan; feminine and desperately needy, broke the tense standoff.

Derek froze, eyes clamping shut, before slowly opening them only to glare at the dirt smudge on Dave's shoes. Taking a languid moment; working up the courage to finally meet the other man's dark, inquiring gaze.

"Oops," he joked. "I forgot to hit pause."

A whimpered squeal, followed by a rhythmic wet, slapping noise, that of which was distinctly sexual, echoed around the pair like an indecent taunt.

"Yeah," Rossi jutted out his chin, as he crossed his arms. "What's it called?"

"Hmm?" playing coy, hoping to buy himself some time.

"That Pay-Per-View you rented?" he probed; lips twitching with a knowing smirk.

"Bangn' Babes: Bikini Paradise," waggling his brows, glad his skin was dark enough to hide what would surely be an embarrassing blush. "Part three."

"Huh," glancing at the other door, the one he knew belonged to Garcia. "I'll have to check it out."

Derek's sharp hiss of breath, flared nostrils and dark scowl, told Rossi he had taken it too far.

Though the loud ' _Ooh God, fuck yes!_ ' that was unmistakably Penelope, had Derek stepping out into the hallway and fumbling to quickly shut the door. Feeling foolish for not having thought of that earlier, though his throbbing dick was painfully swollen and easily distracting him. The resounding 'click' of the door slamming shut, left them floundering in awkward silence.

"Something you want to tell me?" Rossi's furrowed brows and pursed lips, made Morgan feel like a young boy getting caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar.

Biting his lip, preventing the smirk that would surely reveal how happy he was to be able to put his hand inside that _cookie jar_ – it belonged to Penelope after all, and it was the prettiest pink pussy, all wet, tight and deliciously sensitive, and he wanted to bury every part of himself inside of it.

"Morgan!" the harsh bark shattered his fantasies, though it was too late for his dick, which now fully tented the towel around his waist. "Unbelievable!" Rossi shook his head, muttering what sounded like Italian profanities under his breath.

"Fuck," adjusting himself, nearly dropping the navy fabric, only to give up, clutch the towel and drop a hand over his groin.

 _Oh, was his Baby Girl gonna pay for this._

"Umm, the case?" Derek tried, flashing the frustrated man a sheepish grin.

"What?" arms falling to his sides, hands clenching into fists; a sure sign Rossi was at a breaking point.

"The case," swallowing his parched tongue. "Did another victim pop up?" realizing he was failing miserably at changing the topic – at distracting Rossi from what they both already knew, that Aaron was fucking Penelope senseless next door.

"No," dark whiskey eyes wavering with disappointment – and perhaps, jealously? "Not that it matters," waving his hands towards the angry red nail marks across Morgan's shoulders. "Since you're too busy to be of any help."

"Look man!" stepping forward, feeling defensive and undoubtedly guilty, only to be cut off.

"I hope you _three_ know what you're doing," came Dave's clipped, simple advice, before he spun on his heel – leaving Morgan confused and uncomfortably aroused.

"Hey Rossi!" he called after him; not sure why he was dragging out the moment. "Why did you come up here?"

With a scathing look Dave tilted his head. "I'm a profiler," holding his hands up. "I was just confirming a hunch," only to turn back around and walk away.

Taking a few, deep breaths, waiting until Rossi disappeared into the elevator, before he headed back inside, only to be met with a locked door. Jiggling the handle a few times with no luck, he slammed his palm against the thick ornate wood. Glancing around him, he tucked the towel firmly around his hips, and marched the few short steps to Garcia's door where he beat his fist against it.

The door swung open, revealing Hotch wearing his black slacks with the button undone and belt lose around his waist. Eyes sparking with mischief and hooded with satisfaction, he took a giant swig from the wine bottle he was holding.

"Thanks for taking care of that," he smirked, stepping aside as Derek quickly brushed past him.

Coming into the room, feeling the wind get knocked out of him as he spotted Garcia on the bed completely sated. Her alabaster skin beautifully flushed, legs bent and spread wide open, one hand clutching the sheets while her other arm was flung over her eyes; chest heaving, as she desperately panted for air.

Looking every inch like the naughty, little nymph she was, and Derek wanted to gather her into his arms; needing to find his own sweet release, only for his ragged nerves to lead him over to the mini bar across the room instead.

"What did he want?" Hotch pressed, as he sat on the bed next to Penelope.

Ignoring the question, Morgan dug around the small expensive fridge until he found the clear bottles. Grunting in approval he popped several open, chugging the bitter liquor down, before perching himself on the edge of the dresser and glaring at his boss.

"He won't say anything," taking a long swig, as he gently brushed the tangled curls away from Penelope's face. "If that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not," shifting; feeling the aggravated pulse of his dick twitch against his bare thigh – sighing in defeat when he realized his Baby Girl needed a break and he was probably going to have to deal with his problem all alone.

"I've caught Dave in plenty of…indecent situations," Hotch added; aware of the tension rolling off the darker man. "He is the reason for all those fraternization rules."

"Oh my, God!" Penelope jolted up, nearly pushing Aaron off the bed, as she stumbled to her feet. "Who? What? Rossi!" rubbing her hand across her face, only for it to fall to her belly where those sparkling nails scratched her bare skin. The shocked squeal flew past her kissed bruised lips, eyes going wide, as she searched for something, anything, to cover herself up with.

"Garcia," Hotch tried, voice low and reassuring.

"Nuh uh!" she shrieked, looking around the floor. "Don't you _Garcia me_!" thrusting up dramatic air quotes; frowning when she couldn't find a sheet, only to cry with relief when she spotted a large body pillow.

"Baby," Derek lips twitched in amusement, despite his dampened mood, for the oversized pillow she was awkwardly holding was larger than her. Hair a wild mess, full lips in a cute pout, as she squinted those bright hazel eyes at him.

Getting up, he grabbed the pink glasses off the night stand and gritting his teeth; ignoring the tender, burning ache between his legs, he slowly walked towards her, tapping her little button nose, before carefully placing the frames upon her face.

"Better?" he smiled, only to click his tongue, when she took a few giant steps back, until she was across the room.

"No!" she squeaked. "What happened? What did Rossi want?" gasping, almost dropping the pillow when a hand came to her mouth. "Was there another victim?" spinning around, searching for one of her many devices; growling when she came up empty handed. "Wait, a precious mortal minute!" turning around to glare at him. "He would have called Hotch for that. So…he…," head tilting adorably to the side, only for the color to fade from her cheeks and considerably pale. "Oh stupid, fucking…son of a bitch!" she wailed.

The shocking expletive pulled a rare chuckle from Hotch, whose brows were now raised in surprise, though Morgan was her best friend, had heard her frazzled curses plenty of times when she was upset, but the glistening tears that accompanied them were foreign and had him immediately stepping closer, only for her hand to shoot up and stop him.

"Did he…does he…," fumbling with words, the severity of what they had done doused her sensual spirits with humiliation. "Rossi knows?"

Morgan took a breath, and nodded his head.

"About us?"

Nodding, once more.

"Did he…did you…could you, hear us?" though her voice had become shrill, it shook with every breath.

Looking down, unable to see her struggling to blink away those unshed tears – hating the guilt that dulled the light behind those pretty eyes. Though the loud whopping 'smack' had Derek looking back up, only to see Penelope swing the giant pillow again and hit Aaron with it.

"You…," she panted, smacking his side. "Big…," struggling to lift the weight over her head, only to throw it at him. "Jackass!"

Hotch's hands had come up to shield his face, though the plush feathered weapon caused little damage.

"Penelope," he tried, grabbing the ugly embellished thing and tossing it across the room. "Stop that."

Standing before them, only wearing an angry blush that peppered her creamy skin, eyes narrowed, lips pouting, hip cocked to the side as her chin jutted out with defiance, caused Derek to growl. Feeling his dick twitch with longing at the hot image before him. However, his mama hadn't raised a fool, and his common sense told him that expressing his thoughts – of wanting to bend Garcia over this bed, delve into that slick heat and fuck her until her voice was hoarse and she had forgotten her name, was not the best idea.

So wisely, he chose to use his words instead.

"Sweetness," adjusting his towel, rolling his eyes at Aaron's knowing smirk.

"And you!" she bellowed, whirling around to glare at him, only to grab a small decorative pillow off the floor and smack him upside the head with it. "Why'd you open the door?"

He laughed, easily dodging her next swing, as he yanked the frilly thing out of her hands and dangled it above her head. She stood on her tippy toes, holding on to his forearm as she tried to jump up and grab it back, causing her tits to bounce enticingly; hardened nipples grazing the hard planes of his chest, and dragging a strangled groan from his lips.

 _Fuckin' hell!_

Grinning, he waved it a little higher; enjoying her small, breathy gasps as she struggled against him. Feeling merciful, he dropped the pillow, then sneakily snaked an arm around her waist and tucked her closely to him.

"Baby, calm down," he cooed, but the minute she felt his turgid length pressed against her belly, she froze – mouth falling open, as she glared up at him.

"Really, Morgan!" she sputtered. "This gets your dick hard?"

"Sweetie, my dicks been hard all night."

"Oh, you…you," waving her finger around, only to jab it into the center of his chest. "Jerk!" pushing away, she stumbled over her feet.

"Rossi won't say anything, Garcia," Hotch reasoned, now sitting on the edge of the bed, hands resting on his knees – eyes smoldering, while he watched her flounce around the room. "Everything, is alright."

"Everything, is _not_ alright!" she shouted, crossing her arms over her bare breasts, when she caught Derek staring. "My friend, someone that I work with...who we all work with, just heard us…us…," waving her hands around in a large accusing circle, as she pointed at all of them. "Getting all…frisky!"

"Frisky!" Aaron snorted, suddenly affronted. "I wasn't frisking anything, Penelope," brows furrowed, lips pursed. "We were fucking. It was rough, it was hot. So don't point your finger at me and act like you didn't enjoy it."

Her mouth gaped like a fish, face turning scarlet and before either man could backpedal and soothe her nerves, she spun around and stomped her way towards the adjoining door. Derek tried to shuffle his way in behind her, but she slammed it shut. The heavy twist of the lock and bolted chain a resounding end to their argument.

"Good going," Morgan mumbled beneath his breath, shooting his boss daggers, before heading towards the bathroom.

Laying back on the crumpled sheets, tugging on his damp chestnut locks as he stared at the ceiling, only to let out a breath. "Fuck."

* * *

Penelope was fuming; toes digging into the plush carpet as she paced back and forth inside the spacious room.

 _Way to go, Garcie!_

She chastised herself, only to growl in frustration when she spotted the manly luggage at the foot of each bed, reminding her why she had walked away in the first place. Needing time to think on her own, since the two half naked men next door where easily, almost embarrassingly, distracting her from a much needed tantrum.

How could they be so, so calm, in a time like this? When she was practically crawling out of her skin and freaking out!

 _We were fucking._

 _You enjoyed it_.

Aaron's words, crass, but honest, had miffed anger coiling down her spine at the truth she didn't want to see, let alone admit, that yes…

She had enjoyed every minute of it.

Because Garcia, was too stubborn for that.

Feeling the air conditioner kick back on, causing a cool shiver to quake her body, leading her to look down and gasp, for there was no denying the evidence that covered her body. Hell, she was like a walking billboard of debauchery.

Mind hazy, body sore and still thrumming with pleasure. The soft skin between her legs, swollen and slick, dripped indecently down her thighs. Their five o'clock shadows had scratched at her pale skin, teeth nipping into her soft flesh, marking her, leaving her tingling with awareness. Though it was her ripe, heavy tits; nipples now dark, sensitive and puckered with need which had her storming into the bathroom to take a hot, cleansing shower.

Ignoring the incessant knocking on the door, she got underneath the powerful heated spray, letting the water massage and wash away all her aches and pains. Though it did little to erase the memory of what she had done in the shower just an hour earlier, with the two alphas she had grown to lov-…attached to! – and if she was in a better mood and not blithering from embarrassed shock, she might say something stupid, and silly, completely moronic like…

Love.

If she loved them.

Did she love them?

She cared a lot about them. Had grown addicted to their devoted adoration. Couldn't stop her mind from dredging up the pleasured induced haze they had drowned her in– for those tender caresses, scorching kisses and spine tingling orgasms had been on an endless loop the last few days.

Her heart swelled, pulsing erratically beneath her heaving chest, before splitting; oozing the blatant honesty, which she struggled to force back down.

Rinsing off, unaware of the tears that had streaked down her cheeks, suddenly feeling like a complete bitch for her overreaction to Rossi finding out. It wasn't their fault that the other agent had connected the clues and figured it out. Nibbling on her lip, she had felt confident with her pep talk in the diner; doing her best to convince herself that she could handle this _affair_ …cringing, that word sounded wrong; it was a sordid, vile description, of something that was a beautiful, loving, albeit slightly problematic, relationship they had created.

And though part of her felt guilty, a bit mortified, at having been caught, there was that nagging voice that told her she would risk it all again. Risk everything to experience, even if it was just one more time, what they had discovered this past weekend, because it had been absolutely worth it.

Feeling a headache pulsing angrily behind her eyes, she slowly got out of the shower and dried off, though it was only when she went into the room to grab her clothes, that she remembered she had locked herself out of her own room, and from all of her belongings – like her cute, comfortable jammies.

"Stupid, stupid…stupid," she grumbled to herself.

Glaring at the wall, ignoring the shadows that danced beneath the crack of the adjoining door, even though she briefly wondered whose feet were blocking the light from the other side.

Turning around, she spotted the wrinkled white button up that obviously belonged to Aaron. Picking it up, only to catch that earthy sandalwood scent which she had easily become addicted to, only for her mind to race with the memory of him covering her mouth, thrusting into her as he forced her over that pleasurable peak once more. Ignoring the blaze that simmered in the pit of her gut, she took a deep inhale; smiling, letting the aroma soothe her nerves, and since she really didn't want to sleep in the stuffy bathrobe, she quickly, though begrudgingly, put the shirt on.

"Fiddlesticks!" she huffed, realizing that even though the shirt came to her upper thighs, she was still naked from the waist down.

Blinking, twisting her fingers in front of her, before deciding on Derek's go-bag. Tugging the zipper open, letting out a victorious whoop when she found a clean pair of black briefs right on top of his clothes.

Running her hand over the soft fabric, she couldn't help the heat that flushed her cheeks, feeling suddenly naughty for going through his personal belongings, but it was the image of her Mocha Adonis filling out the underwear with rightful pride, which had that nerve between her legs pulsing with need.

Shaking the thoughts away, she quickly pulled them up her legs, frowning when the comfy fabric stretched a little more around her ass and thighs. Giggling to herself as she played with the extra flap in front, only to miss her own adorable lace panties.

Plopping down on the perfectly made bed, fingers itching to fiddle with her phones and tablets, deciding to turn the television on instead – hoping to find a much needed distraction.

The firm, solid knock, pulled her attention away from the game show she had been watching, and though her heart clenched and every fiber of her being screamed that she should run over there and fling the door wide open and apologize, she could only frown as she tucked the sheet around herself – seeking comfort from the cold, brittle emptiness that had settled into her bones.

"Go away!" she shouted; sniffling at her petty victory, when the man on the other side slowly trudged away.

Frantically blinking away her tears, doing her best to forget the whirlwind of emotions that collided around her sensitive soul. Giving up, she turned the TV off and snuggled her way into the covers, only to angrily fluff her pillows and roll over. On and on it went, tossing and turning, fighting the urge to give in; believing it was for the best to just stay away and avoid any more hurt that this would cause the team.

Though she knew deep down that it was already too late. Her battered heart seized once more and she quickly clamped her eyes shut, only for her body to finally succumb under the exhaustive slumber it had been craving all day.

* * *

Derek Morgan was many things.

He was strong; an athlete who worked hard on his health and fitness. Put in the long hours of blood, sweat and tears, to create that toned muscle definition that had given him so much appreciative praise from many ladies over the years.

He was Brave. The first one to kick down a door; guns blazing, as he boldly entered a dangerous situation. It had taken valiant effort to become fearless. To face his darkest demons at night when he was all alone, only to come into work the next day and fight to put away those monsters that haunted his worst nightmares.

He was charismatic. Knew how to dimple his cheeks and flash a dazzling smile that easily dropped panties and got him out of many heated situations. He was a charmer by heart. A lover of love, or rather, the act of making love. Hell, he simply enjoyed the art of fucking, was a master of it.

So when his precious Baby Girl left him with the stiffy of a life time; dick dark, swollen, and aching for release, he quickly discovered that he wasn't very patient – lacking the skills that allowed him to sit around and wait. Though he had managed to wait until she had fallen asleep, before sneaking into the room and laying down next to her.

It was nearing six in the morning, and the glittering hues of blues and golds slowly crept their way through the thin curtains; casting warm light upon Penelope's sleeping face. Wearing no makeup, eyes puffy, lips full and pouty, hair a riot of curls; some flat, others tangled, sheet wrapped around her legs, exposing those creamy thighs…creating a breathtaking image that had his already turgid length, painfully throbbing.

She snuggled closer to him; arm falling over his stomach, nails scratching at the abs she loved so much, only to raise her knee over his, and tuck her head into the crook of his arm. Her hot, steady breath tickled his neck and filled his senses with that sweet fruity scent that drove him crazy. But it was the tantalizing peep of cleavage of those large, milky breasts, which were nearly falling out of the poorly buttoned shirt, that had his restraint finally snapping.

He was here to prove a point after all. Had told Hotch he would handle it. Feeling smug arrogance when the other man had gotten a call to head down to the police station, leaving him all alone with the hard-headed, innately independent, fiercely stubborn women, next door.

Slowly sliding out of her grasp, he made his way to the foot of the bed. Tapping his chin in faux contemplation; unable to hide the sneaky smirk that masked his features, as he wrapped the sheet around his hands and quickly tugged the soft fabric away from her. The harsh billowing noise, and sudden chill, had her bolting awake, as a piercing shriek shattered the silence of the morning.

"Hiya, Baby Girl," he purred, eyes narrowing as he devoured her rumpled appearance. "Did ya sleep well?"

"Huh?" she croaked out, rubbing at the cute pillow crease upon her cheek, as her eyes darted around the room; trying to make sense of having been shocked from slumber. "What happened?"

"Don't worry," flashing his teeth. "I didn't either," letting the sheet fall to the floor, he gently grabbed both of her ankles, before firmly yanking her down the bed.

"Derek!" she yelped, glaring at him, though her breath hitched when she caught that heated gaze – one that had turned those soft amber eyes into glittering obsidians and had the ability to pebble her nipples and pool that slick heat between her legs. Feeling suddenly helpless but oh-so-turned on; hating the affect he had on her, she huffed and crossed her arms. "Excusez moi, monsieur, but this is not how to treat a Goddess in the wee hours of the ass crack of dawn!"

"Oh, Sweetness," came that deep throaty chuckle. "You know I love it when you speak that _voulez vous_ shit to me."

She rolled her eyes, trying to pull her feet away only to give up and sigh. "What are you doing?"

"Are you wearing my underwear?" waggling his brows, lifting her legs to expose her backside. "Damn," eyes heating that much more, when he took in the plump flesh of her ass peeking out of the black cotton. "They look good on you. You should keep 'em."

"Well I didn't have my jammies!" she lamely justified.

"And whose fault is that," he gritted out, suddenly serious. "You ran away last night."

"I didn't run away!"

"Garcia," he spat. "Don't start that shit. You can't lie to a profiler."

"Well I didn't!" turning her nose up, hazel eyes spitting fire.

"Yes, you did!"

"No," she fumbled, waving her hands around. "I just…just…went into the other room…," on his narrowed gaze, she took a breath and mumbled. "And just…locked the door."

"Woman," shaking his head; brows furrowed. "I outta smack that little ass of yours."

"Promises, promises!" she shot back, only to gasp and blush a furious shade of scarlet, when she realized her mistake.

"You're right," a big, Cheshire smirk darkened his features. "You've been promising to give me a good morning for years," hands rubbing up her smooth legs, digging into the soft flesh of her thighs, before grabbing the elastic of those black briefs. "And since you left me with a raging hard on all fucking night. I think it's about time for you to pay up," locking eyes with hers, before tearing the fabric away from her body. "Don't you think?"

To be continued…


	12. IV:V

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Hello again! I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for all of your kind and continued support, it's always appreciated! Also, for those of you, who read my other stories, Kismet shall be updated next :)  
**

 **Warning: Strong Sexual Situations & Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter IV: Part V

 _Go ahead, Baby…open up for me._

 _Tell me who owns this pussy…_

Those dirty, demanding words ricocheted around her hazy mind, making her fumble with putting in her ear piece as she swiveled on the creaky wooden chair to face her laptop. Glaring at the harsh white screen, which was running one of her special codes to sift through old databases; hoping to help her crime fighters solve the case.

She had been invited back into the police station; due to Hotch's unflinching persuasion and by making sure she promised not to tamper with their outdated systems, just as long as she stayed put inside the little office, with its broken air conditioner, old dusty mildew stench and the dingiest window to look out of. Touching her suddenly warm cheeks, forcing herself to scan the new information that just popped up, only to purse her glossed lips when the results came back with nothing significant.

"Playing hard to get, huh?" she murmured tersely, fingers flying over the keyboard. "Well it's your lucky day, because mama loves a challenge."

"Talking to yourself again, Garcia?" came Prentiss' throaty chuckle.

"Oh, my raven beauty!" Penelope gasped, hand flying over her chest, eyes widening, only to narrow at the taller woman now blocking the doorway. "It's not nice to startle a Goddess, while she's working."

"I thought the Oracle was all knowing?" Emily arched a brow, while the corner of her mouth twisted into a teasing smirk.

"Tis true. But unfortunately my Spidey senses are off…because _this_ ," gesturing around the dull, cramped space – frowning at its lack of color and trinkets. "Is not my lair," pushing away from the desk, only to lean back and cross her legs. "Its ruined my mojo. And there's so much dust, that I'm all itchy," dramatically scratching at her arms and neck for emphasis.

"Aww, poor baby," Emily cooed, perching her ass on the edge of the desk, as she took a long sip from the cheap Styrofoam cup. "Will this help?" dropping a small paper bag in front of her. "It's not your _Chocolate Thunder_ , but I'm sure it will keep you satisfied," she joked.

 _Cum for me, Baby Girl…show me what I do to you._

Derek's words slammed into Penelope like a freight train, causing her nipples to pucker, her thighs to clamp shut, and a chocked squeal to fly past her lips.

 _Goodness! Did Prentiss know too?_

Staring over her green frames, watching as Emily gave her a confused look, only to shrug and turn her attention to flicking dirt out of her nails as her eyes watched the information on the screen. Letting out a relieved sigh when she realized that she was safe, though her cheeks had already flamed with embarrassed heat.

"Oh, thanks," she chirped, flashing a toothy grin, as she took a giant, nervous bite out of the muffin. "Is there…umm…do you…need anything?"

"Nah," shrugging her shoulders. "Rossi and I came back for lunch. He's being a grump," looking up, sneaking a bite off the sugary treat. "So I thought I'd stop in and ya know…say hi."

Penelope bit her lip to keep from smiling; fully aware of how hard it was for Emily to do girlie things like chit chat, but enjoying her progress at it nonetheless. However, once her words finally sunk in, she felt that knot of worry festering in her gut.

"Oh?" feigning innocence as she twirled a honeyed lock. "So, Rossi's being…grumpy?"

Emily snorted and grabbed another piece of chocolate. "I don't know what crawled up his ass sideways, but he's been pissy all morning."

"You're such a lady," clucking her tongue teasingly, only to lift her silk blouse to fan herself; suddenly feeling trapped. "Did he…umm…say anything?"

 _Like catching me fucking my boss and best friend?_

Staring down at her lap, she braced herself, hoping Prentiss' next words wouldn't be her inevitable demise.

"Hell if I know," shaking her empty cup before tossing it into the trash. "I should ask Reid what's the best method to pull out whatever's up there."

Letting out a shaky breath and a soft chuckle; putting the treat down, before finally settling into her chair to relax. "Oh, leave my Italian Stallion alone. You know he's probably just having a-…"

"That's it!" she shook her head, glancing out the door before lowering herself to whisper. "He needs to get laid!"

"Emily!" Garcia scolded, staring out the door behind her friend, making sure nobody was passing by.

Waving her hand around. "Think about it," grabbing the muffin off the desk, only to take a big bite out of it. "He loves all the finer things in life. Scotch, cigars…women," rolling her eyes like it was obvious. "When's the last time he's had a date?"

Penelope nibbled on her bottom lip and looked away, fingers twisting in her lap, only to hear Emily clear her throat.

Sighing. "A little over a year," crossing her arms, and now thinking about it, it did make sense. Here she was having hot, down right dirty, make you scream for the God's sex, and her poor super-agent had been having a dry spell. "Well, actually…it's been a year and four months."

"Geez, I didn't think you actually knew that," wiping the crumbs off her jeans and onto the desk, only to roll her yes at Garcia's narrowed gaze, as she quickly cleaned up and then asked. "Do you keep tabs on all of our sex lives?"

Tapping her temple and flashing a wide grin. "Oracle of All Knowing, remember," only to lean back and swivel around in the chair as she rubbed her chin in faux contemplation. "Let's see, who was your last date? Was it Ryan? No! Sorry, it was Bryan…from counter terrorism," giggling when Emily squirmed, eyes widening in horror. "You had that one date at the pub, before you let him devour your-…"

"Oh-kay!" standing up and holding her hands out to stop her. "Enough, I get it!" grabbing the extra water bottle off the desk, before taking a giant swig. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Wise words, my little grasshopper!" clicking open a few files on her laptop, as new information started popping up.

"Actually," the playful lilt to Emily's voice, had the mouse freeze on the computer screen. "Speaking of sex lives. You have a lot of explaining to do, Miss Garcia."

"Oh, my darling profiler," hoping her own voice wouldn't crack and give something away. "The stories I have to tell, are too deliciously naughty, for your innocent ears."

"Puh-lease," she huffed, plopping back down onto the desk. "You're practically glowing. More bubbly than normal. Haven't stopped humming since we landed on the plane," pointing her fingers in the air as she listed off each incriminating thing. "Hell, I mean, you're still walking funny."

Penelope was positive her cheeks were flaming red, as her mouth hung open like a stunned goldfish.

"And, as you know," Emily snorted, eating the last of the muffin. "I too haven't had a date in a while. So be a good sport, and give me something juicy."

"Who sent you in here, JJ?" she pouted.

"Who did you take home with you from the bar?"

"Em!"

"Garcia!"

"I think you're the one that needs to get laid," Penelope huffed, pushing her chair into the desk and pulling her laptop closer.

"Well, for someone whose getting _laid_ ," she smirked, eyes dancing with mischief. "You sure are wound tight."

"Don't you have a case to get back to?" arching a brow, hoping her friend would drop it and get her caboose out the door.

"Now that I think about it…" standing back up, pacing the small room. "Hotch and Morgan have been acting weird too."

"I…um…I need to…work, get back to work!" biting her inner cheek, as she stared straight ahead.

"Shit!" Emily whooped, slamming her palms on the desk. "Do you think they found some…" grinding her hips comically. "Hunnies?"

"For someone who doesn't like to chit chat, you sure do like to gossip, Prentiss!" her voice was clipped, as she narrowed her eyes at her friend. "And you've been hanging out with Morgan for too long. Since when do you say, hunnies?"

"Morgan has this swag walk he does, when he gets lucky…" Emily continued, sticking her hands inside her pockets, as she poorly imitated her Hot Stuff's walk; one that Penelope knew all too well. "It's like tenfold today," stopping before turning around on the heel of her boots. "And Hotch, heck I think he might have cracked a little smile earlier. What do you think-…"

"Prentiss!" the deep booming voice, shattered Emily's inquisitive ramblings, as both women shot their eyes to the doorway. "Lunch breaks over," Rossi's scowl was serious, as he waved a file in the air.

Emily sighed, gave Penelope a look and mouthed ' _See what I mean'_.

Rolling her eyes, watching as Emily slowly trudged her way out the door, grabbed the file out of his hands and shouted "This isn't over, Garcia!" as she made her way down the hallway.

Penelope swallowed her heavy tongue, eyes darting around the room, before daring to land on Rossi.

"H-Hi," came her tiny squeak.

His eyes were dark, swirling with emotions that she couldn't quite pinpoint, only for the harsh lines of his face to finally soften. "Are you, okay?"

Nodding her head, not trusting her voice.

"Good," giving her a small smile, and one last look, before leaving her all alone in the tense little room.

Letting out a shaky breath, she slumped in her seat and closed her eyes.

Only for that deep, husky voice to float through the swirling storm inside her mind.

 _Open your eyes, Princess…_

 _I want you to watch me._

Growling, only for her hand to slip inside the collar of her blouse, grazing the bite mark that gently throbbed upon her shoulder, and it was that sensual pulse that yanked her thoughts out of the office.

* * *

_ _Flashback: Early Morning_ _

The minute he tore the soft fabric from her legs, Penelope knew she had made a dire mistake, but when she locked eyes with his narrowed obsidians; glittering with primal hunger, her body became primed with a deep seated need, and she was completely willing to suffer the consequences.

"Der-," she started, only for him to grunt.

"Bend your legs," his voice was low, dark, and demanding. "And spread them…wide."

She gulped, took a breath, and slowly did as he bid, before he dropped to his knees and smirked.

His fingers, long and nimble, tickled over the top of her foot, before dipping into the divot of her ankle and then slowly sliding up the smooth curve of her calf. His eyes never leaving hers, as he cupped the back of her leg and lowered his head, only to lick the back of her knee; plunging his tongue into the crease and sucking on her salty skin.

Her clit pulsed as her womb clenched, only to bite her lip and glare down at him – knowing he was showing her the pleasure, he could magically create between her thighs, by choosing to make a point and tease her instead.

Though, she refused to give him, any satisfaction.

Then his tongue lashed at her knee, long, wet strokes and short, swirling licks, and her breath shook, as she whimpered with need.

"You're already dripping for me…" his voice husky; drenched in lust, was like a warm Sahara breeze, dancing over her heated skin. "Baby Girl."

"Ungh," she mumbled; filling her lungs with air, before trying again. "I-I…huh?"

Releasing her knee with a loud wet 'pop', he kissed up her thigh, over her hip and along her soft, rounded tummy, before trailing back down her other leg and repeating those hot, lashing strokes, until she squirmed – knees shaking, wanting to clamp shut around him, only for him to stop what he was doing and glare.

"What did I say?" he growled.

"W-What?" she sputtered, eyes blinking away the heavy lull that covered her body.

Raising his hand, dropping it between her thighs. "I said…" only to tease a finger at her silky entrance. "To keep…" twirling the slick heat around. "Your legs…" delving fully inside of her, walls already fluttering around him. "Open."

Her lips parted, eyes clamping shut, as she arched off the bed. Grinding her hips into his hand, seeking to ease the throbbing ache that had her gasping for air.

Derek watched her, enjoying the rapid rise and fall of her chest – letting her ride his hand, as he used his thumb to press on that pulsing, little nub, until he wretched a needy moan from her pouty lips.

Pinwheels of electric heat, shot down her spine and coiled in her gut, but just as the pleasure was building between her legs, it was gone.

Ripping his hand away, causing her eyes to fly open and dart around the room, before they landed on him, and narrowed.

"N-No…" she cried, thrusting her hips near him. "Back!" was her simple plea, but it was too late, he was already standing up.

"Open up that shirt for me," sticking his hand inside those light grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination, as he began to stroke himself. "And show me those pretty titties."

Pissed that he had stopped her release; feeling the pleasure wane between her thighs, but not enough to calm down her body, she nibbled on her bottom lip and raised a challenging brow, as she slowly dropped her hands to her waist and playfully fiddled with the last button.

"Penelope," gritting his teeth, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Hmm," she purred, dragging her knees up just a little higher – giving him a beautiful view of her swollen lower lips; pink and deliciously silky.

His hand was firm and biting, as he smacked the plump flesh of her ass, causing her to hiss and yelp in surprise, though when her nipples strained against the thin fabric of Hotch's shirt and her clit pulsed painfully, she dropped her hands to her sides – wanting to tempt the domineering man above her; knowing he always held that feral alpha at bay when he was around her – always her noir hero, wanting to protect her.

But she was achingly horny, pissed off…and willing to play.

"Don't fuck with me," he growled.

"If you want it off…" voice a deep, throaty coo, she hardly recognized. "Then you're gonna have to…Take. It. Off," smiling, stretching her leg out, to rub her foot against his abs. "Baby Boy."

His nostrils flared, lips twisting into a snarl, and it took but a second for him to grab the bottom of the shirt and tear it open. Gasping; hazel eyes growing wide, as buttons flew around her, leaving her luscious curves bare before him. His devouring gaze upon her body, had a rosy blush kissing her pale skin.

"You owe Aaron, a shirt," she tutted, hiding a grin when he snorted his indifference.

"You owe us, an explanation," he bit back, furrowed brows darkening his features.

When she bolted up from the bed, his hand shot out and pushed her back onto the mattress – arms coming out to rest on either side of her; hot, panting breath mingling over them, as he lowered himself above her.

Dropping his head into the crook of her neck, latching onto the soft skin; nibbling, sucking – causing her back to arch and legs to spread. Whimpering when he ground his pelvis into her center, with a thrusting rhythm that had one hand scratching at his shoulder as the other gripped the back of his head; keeping him close.

"Why'd you run away," the stubble of his cheeks scraped against her neck.

"I-I…" licking her lips, thrusting her hips upwards, as she wrapped a leg around him. "I…don't know," she panted, unable to form coherent sentences.

"I suggest…" trailing his hand up over her waist and belly, until he cupped her heavy breast – squeezing; fingers rolling the pebbled tip with firm pressure. "You think about it."

"Hmmph," she grunted, dropping her small hand on top of his much larger one – hating the stinging pull, but needing so much more. "I…panicked."

"Why?" kissing lower down her neck, until he found that peep of collarbone and grazed his teeth along it.

"Der-ek," dragging out his name; tired of waiting. "Please, baby…I need you."

"Tell me," leaning further into her, pressing his hot, rigid length over her center – letting her feel every tempting inch that was blocked from the fabric of his sweats. "I need to know."

He rocked harder, knowing the shift in her breathing – the rapid panting; the way her toes started to curl against the back of his knee, was a sure sign she was close to a release.

"Focus, Sweetness," he gently reminded.

"I…I…Oh, God," head thrashing, as she bit her bottom lip. "It was…embarrassing. And I…unngh, fuck…got scared," her body writhed beautifully beneath his, and when he eased the pressure of his hips – knowing he was far from finished with her; she growled and tried to tug him closer. "Please…I need…right, now!"

Then he froze, smirking when she cursed and smacked at his shoulder, only to sneak her hand into the front of his pants, and cup his turgid dick – stroking him, pulling a guttural moan from his pursed lips.

"Stop teasing, Morgan," smiling sweetly below him. "And fuck me."

"Oh, trust me, Pen…" raising his brows, as that cheeky, smug grin masked his face. "I'm planning on fucking you. Several times…before breakfast," easily untangling himself from her. "But you're gonna have to give me a straight answer first."

Standing back up, arms crossed as he glared down at her – and his tented sweats, did nothing to diminish the anger rolling off of him.

"Go ahead, Princess…" smiling, as he loosened the drawstrings of his pants and let them fall to the floor. "Try and lie to me again."

She gulped; staring at the dark, nearly purple, deliciously thick, painfully long member, before her and pouted. Oh, how she wanted him thrusting hard and deep between her thighs, never relenting as he drove into her – taking what he needed, what she so desperately wanted.

But how did she explain why she ran away last night, when she wasn't even sure herself.

"Baby, talk to me," dropping his hand, holding his large girth, as he slowly started to stroke himself.

"Derek," cheeks flaming red, as she sat up on her elbows to get a better view of the mouth-watering image before her – whimpering when his thumb swirled over the dripping tip.

Her skin was blazing, body thrumming with a quivering need to be consumed, as he stroked the fire within her, without even touching her.

"Well you're…you…and…I'm me!" she fumbled with words, mesmerized over the precise flick of his wrist – the tight, bulging muscles of his arm as he maintained control.

Slowly perusing her body, staring at her breasts he loved so much, before catching her eyes and flashing a toothy grin. "I can see that. Go on…you can do better than that, Baby."

"Well, my chocolate gum drop," looking away, staring at the wall behind him – hoping to find courage amongst the stifling sexual tension she was floundering in. "You…have a reputation," hearing his low growl, she quickly sat up. "I know…it's not all true! You're my best friend, and one of the best men I know," smiling when he smirked, and nodded for her to continue. "And I know that you would never hurt me. You or Aaron," noticing the subtle tick of his jaw, but ignoring it – needing to say what had been on her mind. "It's just…your used to this attention. Being this strong, handsome player. People expect this…" waving her hand around frantically. "Whatever we're doing, from you…but me?!" she cried, suddenly finding herself fighting tears. "This shit doesn't happen to people like me, Derek."

"Baby-…" he tried, releasing himself to step forward.

"No! Let me finish," sniffling. "People don't cross crowded bars to dance with someone like me," wiping her wet cheeks, hating the crack in her voice. "I get it…I'm used to it. I'm a little too geeky. A little to colorful. And I have more curves than most people, especially in our line of work, where everyone is fitter than a fiddle," taking a shaking breath. "But…I fought really hard to accept that. To love me for me," finally looking at him. "At least I thought I was ok…with me," her eyes dropped to her lap, as her fingers played with the torn fabric of Aaron's shirt.

"Garcia," bringing his hand out to cup her face. "Honey, look at me."

She shook her head, voice above a whisper. "I just…knowing that Rossi found out. That little voice inside my head…had all these fears. These issues I've worked so hard to suppress, come back to life," her lips twitched into a small smile, when his thumb gently swiped away the tears. "And…and…I know it's stupid…but I just had this image of him…laughing at me."

"Baby," he hummed, tucking her closely against him, peppering sweet kisses across her face. "No one…" tilting her chin to look up at him. "Is laughing at you. Trust me."

"I know, I know…It's silly, and embarrassing," laughing, even as more tears coursed down her cheeks. "If JJ and Prentiss…goodness, if Reid, found out! What we're doing!" freezing in his arms. "What about the rest of the bureau, Derek?" pushing against him. "I'll be the slutty, laughing stock, of the whole damn place!"

His lips ascended on hers, cutting off her nervous ramblings; plunging his tongue into the warm, velvet depth of her mouth – pressing her firmly against him, until her breathing evened out, only to moan as she clutched desperately to him.

Sucking her plump bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling on it, tugging it and finally releasing it, only to smooth it over with a tender kiss.

Her gaze lifted towards his – face blotchy, eyes red, and yet, still the most precious thing, he's ever laid eyes on.

"Do you want me…" voice low, and loving. "To stop?"

Staring at him, trying to catch her breath – realizing what he was truly asking, only to shake her head and kiss him again.

They were sloppy, teeth clattering, oh-so-fucking-hot kisses, that had her ready to crawl into his lap and ride him for all he was worth, when he plopped her back down and hovered above her.

"Good," waggling his brows. "Now, no more, crazy talk," unable to resist, he dropped down and gave her another tongue tangling kiss, before rising once more. "Because you, Sweet Thang, owe me…big time."

"My poor, Hot Stuff," she giggled, laying back down, waiting for his next move, only to arch a brow when he tugged her towards the end of the bed, grabbed her legs and spread them wide. "Oh," was all her mind could muster.

Taking her hands, giving her knuckles two quick, little pecks before placing her open palms against her heated sex – blushing when her fingers touched the slick, wet heat, pooled between her thighs.

"Go ahead, Baby…open up for me," he rasped, eyes fully dilated, as he grasped his dick, and began to stroke it.

"Uh," she mumbled, suddenly shy and apprehensive. "Der-…"

"Please, Baby," he gritted out. "You trust me, right? Do it for me. Come on, Angel."

Seeing that shimmering love behind those dazzling amber eyes; a tender devotion, that she couldn't resist, she took a shuddering breath, only to smirk as she held, and then parted her swollen lower lips for him.

She felt exposed, and yet, completely turned on. Her tits ached, puckering, begging to be suckled, as her clit pulsed a burning fire between her thighs. But the moment, he stepped closer; taking his dick as he angled it directly in front of her dripping core, she braced herself – expecting the full heavy weight of him to plunge inside her.

Only for time to pass by, and the emptiness to remain.

Her eyes peeked open, and she caught his smug grin staring back at her.

Then his thick, mushroom head, pressed against her sensitive nerve, as he slowly, methodically, dragged his length up and down her slit.

"Oh, fuck…" head slamming into the mattress – thoroughly enjoying the titillating intimacy of what they were doing.

"Tell me who owns this pussy…" pushing just the crown of his dick inside of her, watching as she struggled to keep her legs open.

When she grunted, whimpered, and moaned, everything but answer his question, he pulled back out and started to slowly rub against her.

She glared, wiggling her hips, trying to find that sweet release, only for his stern gaze and arched brow to wretch those dirty, foreign words from her lips.

"Oh, please…" she cried, still holding herself deliciously open for him as she thrust her hips upwards. "You do, baby," he trailed around her entrance, teasing, barely probing and she gasped. "Fuck, Derek!"

"I wanna hear you say it," he growled, teeth clenched as he fought to remain in control – tempted to ease the burning ache that hadn't left him since last night.

"I can't," she whimpered, growling in frustration.

"That naughty mouth of yours, was screaming worse things, the first time I fucked you," came his blunt response, and her mouth fell open. "Don't act shy now."

Then she glared.

"You wanna own this… _pussy_ ," she purred, suddenly brazen. "Then fuck me, Morgan. And prove it."

That was all it took, for him to plunge fully, deeply inside of her – wrenching a scream from her kissed bruised lips, as he slammed his hips greedily in and out of her.

"Cum for me, Baby Girl…show me what I do to you."

And she did just that, until the phone rang several hours later, calling them both into work.

_ _End of Flashback_ _

* * *

Work!

Goodness, she was at work and her panties were soaked!

Squirming in her seat, glancing around – relieved to find herself all alone and tucked safely away in the tiny office.

Breathing heavily, finding herself smirking at that hot, dreamy memory, despite the unethical manner of thinking about it at work.

Rolling back towards her desk, sighing with relief when her computer remained unchanged, as it continued to sift through endless databases. Letting herself get lost in searches for a while, until she felt the need to stretch out the kinks in her sore muscles.

Having two committed lovers, sure took a lot out of you!

Grabbing her phone, shocked to find several missed calls and texts from Hotch. Still reeling from last night, she had kept him in the dog house all day – not sure what punishment he should face for being so, so…naughty.

Considering Morgan was reaping the benefits of Hotch's oversight to his sexy game, which involved fucking her until she forgot her name and where she was, and felt the need to scream her pleasure, while Rossi stood outside the door. Biting her lip, feeling guilty for leaving him hanging, as it was…she really didn't put up much of a fight to stop him, in fact, it was her sparkly fingers that had dug into his firm ass and encouraged him to go harder.

Blushing, she scrolled through the text messages – smiling as they changed from shy, to apologetic, and then to adorably worried.

Taking a minute, she quickly typed a message and hit send. Smiling when the phone almost instantly lit up; letting it ring a few times, before answering.

"Pick your poison," she purred, leaning back as she twirled in her seat. "And tell Mama, how you're gonna make it all better."

"Garcia?" Rossi's deep voice, startled her, causing her to sit up and look around.

"Sorry, Sir!" she cried, face palming herself. "I thought, you were…someone else," clamping her eyes shut as she mouthed a frantic ' _fuck_ '.

She was just about to prattle on when his next words stopped her heart and caused her breath to hitch.

"Kitten, I need you to stay calm for me, okay?" his voice, unusually solemn, had her nearly dropping the phone.

"What happened?" she barked, feeling her body turn cold. "Who is it?"

"Something happened at the crime scene," he breathed out, and she could picture his face in her mind; the fine wrinkles around his eyes, deep and serious. "Now I want you to listen carefully. We're at the hospital right now."

Bolting up onto her teetering heels. "Damn it, Rossi!" slamming her laptop shut as she shuffled around the cramped space to gather her things. "If you don't spit it out, right now, you will feel the wrath of a negative credit score for your next three lifetimes!"

She was met with silence, and then her worst fears.

"Derek has a head wound…and they think a concussion," letting the words sink in. "Besides being battered and bruised. He's doing just fine."

Though there was something more, something, that had her slowly sinking back into her chair.

"And…" she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

When he took too long, she screamed into the phone.

"Dave!" using his first name; forcing the information out of him.

"Aaron's been shot."

To be continued…


	13. V:I

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Hello again! I just wanted to thank everyone for all of your continued support and patience, it's always appreciated!  
**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and a Lady**

Chapter V: Part I

"If we were going any slower, we'd be going backwards!" jangling the jade beads of her pretty bracelet against the matching chunky bangle, which clashed, yet somehow went perfectly with her candy apple red cardigan and flower clips that delicately pinned back her hair, as the woman gestured wildly in front of her. "I mean, why have sirens if you can't go faster?" voice pitchy, as she glared sternly – almost accusingly, over her tortoiseshell glasses at the driver.

Swallowing his tongue, he stepped on the gas pedal and sent up a quick, little prayer.

Twenty-one intense weeks at the Police Academy had done little to prepare the poor rookie cop for the whirlwind that was an emotionally unstable Penelope Garcia.

Only fifteen minutes ago, he had been sitting, tucked away safely in the rickety corner desk – which he had been given day one upon entering the Portland Police Department. Twiddling his thumbs, as he dully shifted through a case file involving a dispute between two neighbors over the building of a fence around a shared lemon tree. It had led to a heated argument and a call to 911. It was a case that held little merit, and would soon be rescinded, though, until then, the duty of typing up the boring report rested on the slumped shoulders of Probationary Officer, Kenneth Mills.

Yep, he sure was living the dream.

Glancing up at the leisurely ticking clock, he discovered he had only seven minutes before noon, and suddenly his day seemed a little brighter. It was nearing his lunch break, and he was really, really looking forward to eating his pastrami sandwich, favorite cheesy potato chips, and a cold cherry coke – a lunch that had been packed with motherly love.

It had been a rather tiring day, after all, and he certainly deserved the reprieve.

Though, all his dreams of savory goodness vanished in a blink of an eye as a tornado of vibrant yellow – a color that could compete with the sun – patterned with the quirkiest red floral print he had ever seen, stomped her way towards him on teetering velvet green pumps, that had a strap around her ankle and two tassels swishing excitedly behind her.

He gulped, stumbling out of his seat as he abruptly stood up. Briefly recognizing her as part of the FBI team which had arrived yesterday. Taking note of her striking flamboyant attire and the bedazzled tablet and phone in her hand, he realized she was the Technical Analyst everyone was gossiping about. The one who had easily hacked into their shitty system and fixed it.

Kenneth didn't really see a problem with the added security, but apparently for the Sheriff, it was a giant no-no.

Adjusting his collar, as his dour brown eyes quickly glanced around the department only to come up empty. A feeling of dread washed over him, and he secretly crossed his fingers, hoping that she hadn't gone lurking into some file and discovered something that would land them all in trouble, only to take a big sigh of relief when she pointed a hot pink, sparkling feathered pen at him and screamed.

"You, Mister tall, dark and all alone!" she practically growled; brows knitted, shoulders squared and cute, little nose pointed in determination, a sure sign she wasn't one for taking any bullshit. "I'm commandeering you and your cruiser!"

"I-I don't…" feeling sweat bead his brow. "Have one?"

She arched a delicate brow, perhaps wondering why he seemed to ask a question rather than make a statement. Peering down at the Velcro patch across his shoulder, with his name formally stitched in white.

"Look. Ken, Kenny, Big K!" batting her thick lashes, and coyly tucking a flouncing curl behind her ear. "I need you to find one for me," her voice was brisk, as she narrowed her gaze at the man who was doing his best not to tremble in his stiff leather boots.

"I don't…I'm not allowed on my own, yet…I um…" licking his suddenly dry lips, hating the heat of his ears when he got flustered.

Cocking her head to the side in contemplation as she gave him a quick perusal. "Kenny, has anyone ever told you that you look like Jake Gyllenhaal?"

"Um, no ma'am," an amused chuckle burst forth – one that broke with a strained pitch he hadn't heard since puberty.

A large smile, dazzling like that of the Cheshire cat, spread across her face. "Oh, you do. You certainly do," she then took a small step forward and lightly bopped his arm with her pen – getting a little bit of glitter on his navy button-up. "And anyone, who looks like that fine specimen, should be brave enough to act in an emergency situation."

He found himself nodding earnestly in agreement, hands already sliding into his pockets, looking for keys that he didn't possess.

"Good," shifting back to professionalism, her gaze flickered all over the room. "Ah-ha!" she squealed, bouncing with excitement.

If her arms weren't full, he could totally picture her happily clapping her hands, and rubbing them together like some villain in a children's movie.

"What is that?" pointing her pen at the far wall, to a dingy cork board with a bunch of empty hooks, except for one at the very bottom.

"A, um…a key?" he mumbled.

" _To_?" rolling the pen in the air, like a maestro magically building up suspense.

"An old cruiser…out back…I think…"

"Perfect!" she chirped, already spinning on her heels and half way out the door. "I do hope you're following my perfect posterior?"

He glanced at the clock, and then the break room – thinking about that delicious pastrami, that would have to wait – only to watch as she went out the wrong door, and reemerged a moment later with a frown on those glossed lips, and impatiently tapped her foot.

"Yes, ma'am!" swiftly picking up his jacket, he shoved his baton back onto his belt and checked that his weapon was secured, before jogging his way towards her.

Kenneth fumbled with the key, before turning around to face the colorful spitfire, and gulped.

"And don't call me, ma'am," shaking the perfumed scented pen in his face.

Scratching the back of his head, the prickle of his fresh buzz cut biting into his fingertips, and he nodded. "Yes ma'am," eyes shooting wide open, when she glared. "I mean, miss!"

"Garcia," eyes twinkling over her stern expression. "Call me, Garcia."

He smiled, and then quickly led her outside into the chilled morning air. The sky was a bright blue and fluffy white clouds slowly moved over the horizon. A rare occurrence in temperamental Oregon. Squinting, he threw on his gold-rimmed Aviators, and briefly enjoyed the familiar smell of sea salt rolling off the Pacific Ocean that was always so comforting, and by the appreciative sniff from the woman next to him, she obviously loved it, too.

It took only a few minutes to lead her over soft dirt and broken gravel around the station, into the old cruiser, and that's exactly how he found himself stuck in the slow vehicle with an anxious Garcia.

He had been embarrassed, unable to find the switch for the sirens, only to sit in awe as he watched her expertly bring up a site and scroll through her tablet. She then leaned over him and hit the knob hidden behind the steering wheel, bringing to life the flashing red and blue lights and the blaring roar of the siren.

Garcia winked, and Kenneth had nodded in thanks, nearly rolling into the chain-link fence behind them when he accidentally put the car in neutral.

Now his fingers white-knuckled the steering wheel as she expertly guided his way towards the hospital. One, which his mother had given birth to him only Twenty-Six years before. His brief glimpse of nostalgia was snatched away as she pointed her finger at the blue Toyota slowly chugging its way in front of them.

Her hand reached up, fumbling with the control to the vehicle bull horn, obviously getting ready to speak her mind. Gently batting her hand away, he quickly flashed the lights, got into the next lane and sped his away around the oblivious driver.

Crossing her arms as she slumped in the large leather seat. "Who the hell did he think he was? Mister-I'm-gonna-take-up-the-whole-damn-road, like I own it," huffing bangs out of her eyes in a show of annoyance. "I mean, lights and sirens are an indication that you need to pull over because there's an emergency!" sucking in a deep breath. "If I wasn't needed elsewhere, you bet your sweet patootie I would have gotten their license plate and reported their ass!"

"Yeah, what a total…dick," he added; proud that he could get a small smile out of the woman.

Silence fell over them, until static burst through the police radio and filled the tense space with jarring information. A clipped report about the suspect, who was responsible for shooting at the two Federal Agents, had just been apprehended. The news pulled a shocked gasp from the woman next to him.

Glancing over, mind racing with things to do for a person in distress, deciding to sweetly, but awkwardly, pat her elbow in reassurance.

"I'm sure your friends are going to be alright," attempting small talk, trying to alleviate her growing stress.

"Yeah?" she sniffled, gnawing on her bottom lip as she pulled out a pretty silk handkerchief from her oversized purse to dab at her wet cheeks.

"Oh, of course!" tossing her a grin. "My dad was an officer. Got shot in the back. Twice. He had to retire, but my old man's still alive and grouchier than ever," chuckling, only to frown when a sob echoed around him.

"H-He had…to _retire_?" her face crumpled, and shoulders slumped with what appeared to be the weight of the world.

"Uh, yeah, but I mean…he still fishes on the weekends. And he likes it…I think."

" _Fishing_?" face scrunched up as she adamantly shook her head, bouncing her blonde tresses. "No way! Nope. Nuh uh! Hotch and Morgan, are not the type of men who…fish! They would get bored, and hate it. I mean, Aaron could spend more time with Jack. That's a total plus. He loves that kiddo to the moon and back," her hazel eyes began to mist over as she clutched the plastic door handle. "But no. He's a helper, who works to stop bad guys and save people. He's great at it. Plus, I can't imagine his sexy tush not wearing a suit. And boy, does he know how to fill one out," a wistful sigh lightened her posture, only for her smile to grow wider as she giggled in coy amusement. "And Derek. My brave, kind, domineering, Hot Stuff looks way too scrumptious kicking down doors to be stuck out on a lake hunting for Nemo and Flounder. He just has these hands that are made for working. I mean ever since he started renovating houses during his spare time, he just got hotter. I didn't think it was possible. But, my Baby Boy, could give the calendar business a run for their money."

Kenneth noted the huskiness in her voice, and forced his attention back on the winding road ahead of them.

"Um, _oh-kay_ …" he mumbled, feeling like he was intruding on some indecent dream. Apparently, she was the type of person who shared too much when stressed. "Uh, sorry, I didn't know that you were seeing…I mean, I'm sure your boyfriend is gonna be fine."

"Wait, what?" she squeaked, suddenly flustered, as her face bloomed an adorable pink. "I'm not with them! I mean, I am, because we're on the same team. We work together. That's it!"

"Oh, no, no, yeah, I know!" he quickly backtracked. "I wasn't…I mean, I just thought because how you were talking, that you were involved with one of them…you know? But it's sweet that you care so much about them. Is all. Like a mother," on her narrowed gazed, he blanched. "Oh, no, no…not that you remind me of my mom! You're way hotter than my mom! Okay, fuck, that sounded weird…um, shit…" clearly his throat, shifting in his seat. "I'm gonna…stop talking now," he was young, and clearly still learning how to talk to women.

Her features softened, and a soft smile – one that had been missing from her face since she received that dreaded phone call – pulled at her lips. "Sorry, I ramble when I'm nervous. So, don't fret you're pretty little mind about it, Ken Bear," she laughed, only to suddenly shout the next direction, and then spent the rest of the time absently watching the lush green trees that were slowly fading into hues of gold, zoom by.

Less than ten rather awkward minutes later, they finally arrived at the hospital. There were a few cruisers and two large SUV's haphazardly parked with lights silently flashing against the white brick walls of the building.

"Oh," Garcia whispered, fingers covering her lips, as her other hand grasped the door handle.

Kenneth parked the cruiser, and shut off the engine. He had expected her to throw herself out of the vehicle before he had even made it to a stop. So, he wasn't quite sure what to do with this new development.

Deciding it was best to just sit and patiently wait.

"I can…" clearing his throat. "Go in with you."

She blinked several times, taking in short, shallow breaths.

Kenneth started to worry that perhaps she was in a state of shock, and maybe he should go get a nurse. Getting ready to ask if she needed help, only for her cellphone to go off in her lap. The pinging chime vibrated an airy tune, yet, she remained unmoving. It eventually hit her voicemail and turned off, only to ring once more.

"Garcia?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sure they're okay," attempting reason. "But, you won't know until you check."

She released a deep, shaky breath, and finally looked over at him, and nodded.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she gathered her things, and opened the door. Standing on the sidewalk, taking a few deep breaths, before bending back down.

"Thanks for driving me, my sexy Gyllenhaal substitute," giving Kenneth a charming grin, and a cute, little wink.

"My pleasure, ma'am," a teasing smirk lightened his features as his dark eyes sparkled with merriment, before giving her an encouraging nod.

She shook her feathered pen at him, then steeled her shoulders and walked through the sliding glass doors of the Emergency Room. The knotted anxiety that had been festering in the pit of her belly swarmed with a vengeance when she spotted Rossi at the end of the hall with his cellphone pressed to his ear.

Hers was on top of her tablet, tucked safely in the crook of her arm, and went off once more, only to stop when he spotted her and hung up. Tucking the phone safely inside his coat pocket, he headed towards her, stopping just a few feet away.

Bright fluorescent lights, the harsh scent of bleach, and the incessant beeping of machines added to the suffocating silence surrounding the pair.

"Are…are they…" she sniffled, unable to ask what she desperately needed to know.

Despite the tension that had been recently wedged between their relationship, Rossi opened his arms, and let her run into his warm, welcoming embrace. He gently patted her head, and hummed soothing words in her ear as she finally allowed herself to break down.

"Shh, shh, dolcezza," rocking her back-and-forth in a calming motion. "Calm down, Kitten."

She pulled away, blinking away the hot tears that streamed down her cheeks. "David."

The use of his first name destroyed any pretenses that she was beating around the bush.

"Morgan has a concussion and seven stitches on that pretty mug of his. A black eye, some bruised ribs, dislocated shoulder and a bullet graze on his hip."

"He was shot!" she wailed, nearly swaying on her heels and dropping her purse.

Rossi clutched her arms, and brought her down to sit on some stiff plastic chairs.

He lifted her chin, forcing her to look right at him. "Look at me, Penelope. He's battered, but fine. It was just a graze. They got him strung out on pain meds, and he seems to only want you," a tender look of simple understanding, flashed upon his face.

"Oh," she sniffled, feeling her body simultaneously tighten with dread and relax with relief. It was a dizzying combination.

"And Aaron?" ignoring his narrowed gaze, at her casual use of their boss's name.

Choosing to let the trauma of the day's events, of nearly losing the other team members as cause for the rare slip, he looked away, his posture finally slouching with the severity of what ifs.

"They rushed him into surgery," taking a steadying breath, clasping his hands together, before gracing her with the presence of those dark whiskey eyes. "The bullet pierced his left shoulder and exited his chest."

Her breath hitched; blood turning cold and running through her veins like molasses. If she hadn't been sitting, she would have been crumpled on the floor. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. Unable to focus on Rossi, whose lips were moving, yet she couldn't hear a single word.

Then like a freight train barreling through a parked car stopped on the tracks, her attention was jolted from her shocked grief and down the long hallway. Watching as a team of nurses – all wearing those hideous green scrubs with gloves covered in deep red – as they quickly rolled a patient down the hall and through thick double doors.

Though Penelope's wide gaze; concerned and heartbroken, was transfixed on the Doctor who was perched on top of the bed, arms forcefully pumping up-and-down over the lifeless patient as he administered CPR. It was jarring, unreal, something out of a horror movie and so eerily similar to the haunting images that flashed on her computer screens.

It took her breath away, and a wrenching sob rippled down her body. Oh, how that could so easily have been Morgan or Hotch. How it possibly had been one of them. Feeling Rossi's strong hand rub circles over her back, reminding her that it also could have been any one of them. The team she worked for. The only family she loved. It was too close to comfort, and she felt so terribly helpless.

"Garcia," Rossi tried, hugging her against him as her body violently trembled. "Penelope."

Her cries quietened, but didn't stop, and he grabbed her shoulders, gently, but firmly shaking her. She blinked several times, before finally meeting his worried gaze.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

Waiting, until she gave a short, albeit unfocused nod, before continuing.

"Hotch is a fighter. He's the strongest guy I know," taking a deep breath. "We got him here fast, and the Doctor's said it was a clean shot. Straight through. That there won't be any fragments lodged inside him. So, there will be less damage, and easier to fix. And Prentiss is a perfect match, and already donated blood as a precautionary measure."

Penelope nodded, trying to digest the information, though had only picked up little bits and pieces. _Shots. Fragments. Damage. Blood._ None of it sounded good, and her own heart seemed to be split open and oozing painfully inside her chest.

"They gave him a 70 percent chance of survival. And, according to Reid, those are astonishing odds to have for this type of injury."

"Where's Derek?" she murmured, before bolting from her seat. "I need to see Derek."

Rossi stood up. "Exam room nine," pointing to the curtained off enclosure across the way.

Swinging her purse over her shoulders, she teetered her way with a mastered agility she had learned long ago from wearing heels, and made it there about half a minute before Rossi.

Stepping into the floor-to-ceiling glass room, she swished the curtain aside and spotted her precious Hot Stuff. There he sat leaning back on the raised bed, right arm in a sling, a bloody bandage above his black eye, as he struggled to eat a small pudding cup. And her heart burst with elation.

She didn't even say anything, couldn't if she tried. Instead she tossed her things onto the empty pale pink chair that was stationed between JJ and Reid and flung herself carefully onto Derek.

" _Baby Giiirl_ ," he happily slurred, holding the plastic spoon in his mouth as he embraced her into a tight hug with his good arm.

" _Doh a dive_ ," she mumbled into his shoulder, making him frown in confusion.

"What was that, beautiful?"

She sniffled, leaving her body plastered against his, as she tilted her face up at him. "You're alive," she repeated, hand coming up to grasp his chin as her fingers played lightly over his trimmed goatee. Relishing over the sensation, a simple reminder he was there, right in front of her.

"Aww, Baby," tossing the food and empty cup onto the hospital table next to him. "Don't cry."

She shook her head, tucking herself closer into his side, wanting to just crawl inside him and never let go.

"Let's go grab a soda, Spence," she heard JJ's soft voice whisper across the room, followed by their shoes stepping over linoleum.

"They got me in a dress!" Derek voice dripped with disgust, and she could just picture his face scrunched in disapproval.

She giggled despite herself, and finally pulled away from him. Fingers playing with the crinkly fabric of the white and blue polka dotted hospital gown.

"You look cute in it," she smiled, rubbing a hand over his neck, bringing her head down to kiss his forehead.

He twisted, lifting his arm up to play with her hair, only to yank on the IV inserted into his arm.

"Oh, be careful!" she frowned. "Don't hurt yourself. You already did enough damage."

Her sensitivity was firing on all cylinders and she seemed to have lost some of her pleasantries when she arrived.

"I'm sorry," a word that held so much more meaning. Of almost dying. Of leaving her to live without him.

He was now pouting, obviously upset with himself. Dropping his head on the small, flat pillow, he stared up at the hanging television, squinting his eyes to try and read the subtitles of some court show that he didn't care about.

"I know you are," entwining their hands, peppering his knuckles with sweet, little kisses.

"It just…" clearing his throat, tightening his grip on her hand. "Happened so fast. Guy came out of nowhere. The profile wasn't exactly right. That's not an excuse, we shoulda been better prepared."

"Oh, Angelfish," tears dotting her lashes, hating to see him distraught, and that self-blame that always rested upon his shoulders. "It was an accident. It's no one's fault," placing her hand on his cheek, delicately rubbing her thumb beneath his swollen eye. "Derek, it's not your fault."

He pursed his lips into a straight line, sinking lower into the bed.

"He's gonna make it," his voice was low, and biting with conviction.

"I know," holding her breath when he brought her hand up to his lips and copied her sentiments. His whiskers tickled her soft flesh and she smiled, causing a seedling of hope to bloom inside her heart.

And she suddenly felt just a little better.

To be continued…


	14. V:II

**A/N I do not own Criminal Minds. Hello again! I just wanted to thank everyone for your continued support and endless patience, it's always appreciated! Also, for those of you who read my other stories, _Kismet_ shall be updated next :)  
**

 **Warning: Strong Sexual Situations & Coarse Language**

 **Please, enjoy!**

 **Two Wolves and A Lady**

Chapter V: Part II

Sixty-three hours…

Sixty-three long, harrowing hours had slowly ticked away while Aaron Hotchner remained lost in a deep slumber.

Sleeping. He was only sleeping. Penelope reminded herself. Choosing to use the idea of him resting to ease the constant negative chatter in her mind, as opposed to what the doctors had described as a medically induced coma.

No. She hadn't liked that one bit. That medical jargon had made very little sense three days ago, even after Reid had explained it to her, very patiently, multiple times.

Penelope, though highly intellectual, mainly worked with computers. She analyzed coding and dazzled with her ability to quickly and efficiently hack information. It was her field of expertise. She, however, had not a single clue how to help somebody in an induced coma. It made her feel stupid and helpless, making her spend most of the time cooped up in the bright, sterile room researching every article, blog, or video she could find online. Some of her concerns had been doused, though as the hours continued to slip away and nothing had changed with Aaron's condition, she easily became frustrated.

The battery symbol suddenly flashed red across her tablet screen and she blew out her bangs in an irritated huff. Shifting on the uncomfortable cot, she dropped the tablet into her purse, and rolled over onto her back. Taking off her glasses, she firmly pressed her fingertips above her eyes. Digging into her forehead and pinching the bridge of her nose, carefully hitting the tender pressure points, hoping to alleviate the constant tension headache that had been her difficult companion these last few days.

"You should get some sleep," Derek's rough, scratchy voice jarred her out of those awful thoughts.

"I already slept," she grumbled, dragging her fingers down her cheeks and squeezing over her jaw.

Her eyes briefly flew open, thinking of all the makeup she had just smudged, only to remember she had foregone her normal full face of color for something much more manageable. A simple swipe of mascara and some cheap vanilla gloss was all the energy she could muster. Relieved, she let her eyes drift close once more, hating the burning sandpaper sensation behind her lids.

"Baby, you barely slept last night," she could hear him fiddling with the control to his hospital bed, muttering a few curses, before the loud cranking sound of it being raised filled the room. "And no, that thirty-minute catnap, before lunch, doesn't count."

"But I'm not even-…" poorly stifling a yawn, "…tired."

He chuckled, and she pouted.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" she groused, rolling back onto her side to stare up at him as she wrapped the small lavender crocheted blanket tightly around her shoulders.

Ignoring her, he pressed on. "I got drugs to help me sleep," waggling those defined brows. "Got me a full eight hours," an impressive feat for the notorious insomniac. "Slept like a damn bear."

"Well, you sure do snore like one," feeling her face soften as a genuine smile finally broke through. "My little, cute and chunky, grizzly bear."

"Hey, now," he smirked, using the back of his knuckles to gently scratch the stitches above that giant purple knot over his forehead. "I heard you earlier," clearing his throat, he started making soft snoring noises that soon grew into wild snorts.

She giggled, face growing hot with embarrassment. "I do not snore!"

"Hmm," shrugging his good shoulder. "Remind me to ask JJ and Prentiss when they come back."

Pressing her palms together, she tucked them beneath her head and glared. "My girlies, would never rat me out," a lazy smile pulled at her lips. "They know I have oodles and oodles of juicy dirt on them, to ever go against moi."

Shaking his head, he shimmied himself lower into the bed only to grimace when he tweaked his side. What had initially been a few bruised ribs had turned out to be four fractured bones. His open gown revealed the blue ice pack, tucked beneath the sling of his shoulder. It looked stark against the dark bronze of his skin, and she easily became distracted by the small drops of condensation dripping off the cloth, slowly trailing down his tapered waist, and disappearing into the scrunched hem of his boxers.

"You want me to go get your nurse?" arching a brow, worried gaze already drifting towards the door.

"No!" he barked, slamming his head onto the flat pillow. "No, no. I'm good," flashing her a toothy grin, though there was no denying the exhaustion behind those dulled amber eyes.

"Did you finish all your food?" straining her neck as she tried to look over the abandoned tray at the foot of his bed.

"Mmhmm," he nodded, lifting the remote to switch channels; an endless search through twenty random stations that usually left him right back on the original show he had been absently watching.

"Derek!" she griped, kicking her legs over the side of the cot and sitting up. "You need to eat."

"Tastes like shit," he frowned, knitting his brows in disgust. "Baby food tastes better than whatever the hell _that_ is," glaring at the large pink cover over the plastic dish.

She bit her inner cheek, hiding her amusement, for the smooshed peas, runny macaroni and cheese, and tough bits of bland chicken did leave a lot to be desired. Morgan was a die-hard steak and potatoes kinda man. Poor baby was probably starving.

"I can run and go get you something else," twisting around to check the overhead clock. "I think the cafeteria is still open. Or there's a grocery store and some fast food places across the street."

"No, I'm fine," giving her a pointed look. "Really. I'm not that hungry anyway. And besides, I'd rather you get some rest."

She clucked her tongue in disapproval and stood up. "If you don't eat, the medicine is gonna upset your tummy."

"Garcia," dropping the remote on the bed as he awkwardly tried to cross his good arm over his sling. "I'm a big boy. I'll be fine. Stop worrying that pretty, little mind of yours."

Penelope was getting ready to remind him about the bad reaction he had from taking his meds on an empty stomach, that left him with terrible bouts of nausea the night before, when suddenly that distressing shrill alarm went off and that loud robotic message alerted:

 **Code Blue. ICU.**

She froze and whirled around, watching the bustle of nurses instantly roll a crash cart across the hall and through the big grey double doors. Her stomach dropped as her heart plummeted to her feet.

 **Code Blue. ICU.**

Derek called after her, but she was already rushing after them. One good thing about being stuck in a hospital for a few days, was that one didn't tend to wear her super cute high heels, and could move much faster on her sparkling pink Converse instead.

In fact, she was so quick, she had slipped through the doors right before they closed. The nurses veered left and her pace immediately slowed. Self-preservation kicking in, unable to watch CPR being administered on Aaron's lifeless body. Witnessing that three days ago, had been once too many, and she had to rapidly blink away the stinging tears that coursed down her cheeks.

A flurry of red flew past her, and she recognized the tall woman with frizzy copper curls as one of the ICU nurses.

"Is he…" Penelope wheezed, swallowing her parched tongue as her hand flew out to grab the woman's elbow. "H-He okay?"

"Sorry ma'am," tone clipped and professional, expression stern and rather grim. "I need you to wait outside."

The nurse abruptly swept away when a doctor approached them talking about cardiac arrest, leaving Penelope standing there all alone. The dull, beige walls seemed to cave in as she became increasingly breathless and dizzy. Her blood became hot, thick molasses flowing through her veins and she needed to sit down before she passed out. Trembling, her fingers gripped the plastic railing as she slumped against the nearest wall.

"Baby Girl," the familiar dulcet tones of Derek finally reached her and she dazedly blinked a few times until she could focus on his concerned face.

His palm, rough, yet gentle, caressed her cheek and wiped away her tears.

"You're not…supposed to be…out of bed," each word cracking with every shuddering gasp to fill her lungs.

"It's not him."

"W-What?" she squeaked out, hand rubbing over her chest – valiantly trying to ease the constricting grief that boiled in the pit of her gut and got stuck in her throat.

"Garcia! Look, Baby," pointing across the room. "It's not him."

She cinched her eyes shut and shook her head.

"I promise you, it's not him," his voice was low, dripping with such sincerity, she had no choice but to look back up at him. "Aaron, is fine."

The use of their boss' first name – her lover, and friend; the man she was enjoying a whirlwind affair with – felt so endearingly sacred coming from Derek, that her heart burst with fluttering emotions and tore a sob from her quivering lips.

"Shh, Sweetness," he cooed, wrapping her tightly against him – ignoring all his aches and pains to bring her comfort.

"He's okay?" she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Look," twisting her body around, forcing her gaze to stare across the hall where the nurses had shoved themselves inside room 6.

Her eyes immediately darted next door. To room 7. Aaron's room.

A bright smile split her face when she spotted him still sleeping. Chest slowly rising and falling, while the scary machines he was hooked up to remained silent.

" _Oh_ ," she wept. "I thought…"

"I know," Derek was pressed so closely behind her, an intimate gesture that let her feel the heat of his skin through her loose knit turquoise sweater.

The alarm stopped as the patient finally stabilized. The nurses then slowly exited one-by-one, while curious visitors went back to stand vigil by their own family members bed side.

The soft grunt from Derek, tickled the hairs on the back of her neck and she turned around. There he stood in those ugly yellow socks, twisted around his feet, so that the white adhesive, meant to grip the linoleum floor, rested on the tops of his feet instead. His hospital gown flapped open, flashing the extra-large boxers she had to go buy for him because his fitted briefs were…a bit revealing. His sling was a little crooked, and he had to roll the heavy portable IV stand next to him to keep up with her, and it was then she realized how much weight he was bearing on the metal pole to keep himself upright.

"You need to be in bed," she admonished, spotting the angry molten purple bruise across his chest and side. She swiftly took the long straps of his gown and tied them into a cute, little bow.

"I needed to make sure…" ragged breath dying off as he came to a halt in front of Aaron's room.

Penelope quickly followed suit, pressing her hands against the cool pane of glass – the only barrier between them and the man doing his best to stay alive on the other side – her inquisitive gaze peered inside, eyes deliberately trailing over him from head to toe, looking for any signs of distress.

"Penelope. Derek," came the soothing voice of Doctor Bahl, or Sonya as the BAU team had fondly been calling her. She was a petite spitfire who didn't beat around the bush. Though it was that lulling maternal energy she effortlessly exuded which made Penelope comfortable with her being in charge of caring for the two most important people in her life.

"I know Derek needs to be in bed resting," Penelope startled, eyes wide like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "But we heard-I heard, the alarm go off and…and I thought…"

"Hey, you don't need to explain. I understand," pulling a tissue packet from her front pocket, she held it out and smiled when Penelope took the whole thing. "That alarm sounds pretty scary when you're not used to it. Especially…" kind brown eyes flitting over the pair to stare at Aaron. "When you have someone you care about in here."

Penelope yanked a few tissues out, and eagerly dabbed her eyes and blew her nose, before grinning sheepishly.

"I just…after last time…I-I…" unable to speak about the horror of watching Hotch receive chest compressions as his body jolted off the bed with each electric shock.

Derek squeezed her shoulder and gave her temple a quick, tender kiss, only to take a deep breath and release a miserable grunt.

"Sit," Sonya pointed to an empty wheelchair next to the nurses station, thin brow arched in warning. "I don't need you tearing your stitches in your hip, and jostling those ribs anymore," tugging her stethoscope around her neck, she flashed those pearly white teeth at Penelope and gave her a teasing wink. "Or giving this poor thing any more grief."

Penelope blew her nose once more, muffling her amusement as Derek hobbled his way to the silver and black wheelchair and carefully eased himself into it.

"Good. Much better," Sonya chirped as she grabbed the thick metal chart off Aaron's door and briefly skimmed through it.

"Is…he…" Penelope mumbled, nervous hands fluttering about as she bounced on her toes. "Getting better?"

Sonya nibbled on her bottom lip, gaze narrowed as she flipped through a few more pink and yellow pages. "His heart stopped for six minutes while in surgery," pulling out a pen, she clicked it, and with a doctor's flourish began signing away. "He also had a rather large contusion on his brain from when he fell after receiving the gunshot wound. The test this afternoon…" flipping back to the front of the chart, she circled a few things, clicked her pen again and shoved it firmly into her front pocket. "Shows that the swelling has decreased dramatically-…"

"Oh!" Penelope gasped, clasping her hands excitedly in front of her. "That's good!" beaming at Derek, before nodding excitedly at Doctor Bahl. "That's good, right?"

"Yes. It's a very good sign," Sonya smiled, putting the chart back. "Though I want to be very clear with you, Penelope, so you know what you're up against. We won't know for certain if there was any loss of brain function, or nerve damage to his arm, until we wake him up."

"Oh…" her shoulders slumped and she couldn't help her bottom lip from jutting out in petulance.

"Hey," Sonya reached forward to gently pat her elbow. "Aaron's test results have been coming back positive, so we've decided it's best to wake him up tomorrow morning."

"You are!" Penelope squealed, only to be drowned out by Derek's resounding shout.

"Is that safe!?" handsome face contorting with that fierce intimidation he only used when questioning suspects.

"Yes. First thing tomorrow morning," giving Penelope a warm smile as she pulled on those long raven locks to tighten her pony tail, before her dark brown eyes, glittering with determination, landed on Derek. "And I gathered the best team of doctors and nurses to handle Mr. Hotchner's care. He's in capable hands."

Derek nodded, jaw sharp with the concerns he was biting back, while Penelope stood there nodding absently over the new information.

"I'm going to look Aaron over now, and I'll bring you a more thorough update in a little bit. For now, how about you take Mr. Morgan, back to his room," Sonya chirped as she meticulously put on blue latex gloves, giving them a quick snap once they were snug on her wrists.

Derek's face fell as he settled more comfortably into the wheelchair. Penelope was already behind him, swiftly unlocking the breaks with her foot, she began to roll him away when Sonya's next words instantly halted her actions.

"Mr. Morgan, you're very lucky to have such a lovely, caring _friend_ at your side," Sonya grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "You'll be released tomorrow and with _Aaron_ …" the way she dragged out his name, accompanied with the small knowing wink, had Penelope nearly slamming Derek into the nurse's station. "Still cooped up in here. She's gonna have a lot of work ahead of her taking care of you both," giving a curt nod, before heading into the room.

A long moment passed, while Penelope let the heat vanish from her face, before she bent down and hissed in Derek's ear, "She knows!" thrusting the IV pole into Derek's hand she gripped the handles and zoomed around the corner, right out of the ICU and back to his secluded room down the end of the hall.

Derek got out of the chair, adjusted his sling, and slowly made his way back to his rumpled bed, while Penelope shut the door and yanked the curtain, with the boring nature print, closed around them for total privacy.

"Do you think she knows?" she squeaked, eyes wide as she peered over her frames. "No? Yeah! She totally knows. Did you see her face!?"

"Garcia," he tried, untying his gown and shoving the ice pack beneath his shoulder. "Baby..." though it was no use as she began to frantically pace the cramped confines.

"What if she blabs!" whirling around, he caught the chipped green and yellow polish as she pointed her finger accusingly at him. "Heck, it's probably already written down in her notes with that super fancy cursive she has!"

Derek snorted at that, scooted over, and patted the bed next to him. "Sit."

"Morgan," using his last name for emphasis. "This is serious!"

"I know," grabbing the control again, he flipped through the channels once more. "Your face is all red and your cheeks puff up like a little chipmunk when you get angry."

Her mouth snapped closed and she glared. "Are you saying my face is fat!"

He gave her a pointed look and she immediately felt contrite.

"Sorry, you're right," tucking a loose lock behind her ear. "I'm being all…"

"Totally, one-hundred percent, Garcia," he cheekily finished for her.

She bubbled over with sniffles and he held his good arm out for her. Wiping a tear away, she carefully clambered her way onto the bed and snuggled up next to him. He playfully twirled one of her braided pigtails as they quietly watched some random sitcom on mute. Though it didn't take long before she began to wiggle in his arms.

"Silly Girl," he chastised, kissing the top of her head. "You need to relax."

"I should be on my laptop," she sat up, fiddling with the small chain of her necklace. "It's not fair that they're out there, and I'm just sitting here, doing nothing."

The man who had shot Hotch and Morgan, turned out to be the UnSub's brother. They had discovered this fact two nights ago, when yet another victim had popped up matching the same M.O. By the time the team had connected all the pieces together, they had lost two more victims. This meant that Prentiss, Reid, JJ and Rossi were the only ones available to hunt down the creep who had led them all on a wild goose chase.

"They got another techie helping them out for information."

Her back went stiff and he chuckled.

"No, they're not as good as you. No one is," squeezing her shoulder, before gently rubbing up and down her side. "But right now, _we_ need you here."

She looked up at him, big hazel eyes glistening with unshed tears as she valiantly tried to stop her bottom lip from quivering.

"I need to call Jessica. Maybe Jack is still awake. It's like what…eight or nine there?" shimmying out of his grasp, she jumped out of bed, only to get tangled up in the curtain. Struggling for a moment, she growled, nearly ripping the ugly thing off its hinges, before snatching her bedazzled cellphone off the cot and storming her way into the bathroom

Her vision blurred as she stared at the little numbers on her phone. Giving up she tried to search her contact list when the door opened, revealing her very worried, slightly flustered, Hot Stuff.

"I forgot to call him. I should've called him back today. I-I…I'm the worst auntie ever," and then she groaned, realizing that her recent bedroom activities with Aaron twisted her role in Jack's life. Taking a long, steadying breath, she did her best to square her shoulders and point her chin, only to stare at the floor instead. "B-But how am I supposed to tell him his daddy might have brain damage or…or his arm won't work like it should. He's just a sweet, little boy and he's already been through so much."

And oh, how she loved that little boy and had felt absolutely terrible when she called Jessica that first night and delivered the news. Her heart broke when she heard Jack's wails on the other end. He was such a smart kid, that Jessica had no choice but to be honest with him. After everything that had happened with Haley, Penelope immediately had put herself, JJ, and Reid, on a video conference with him until he calmed down enough to finally fall asleep.

Jack reminded her so much of Aaron. The kind, big-hearted, always inquisitive, boy was so much like his daddy, that she would hate to confuse him and make him angry with her. She couldn't lose him from her life. That thought had her belly knotted with worry, and she suddenly had to fight for breath, only for her downward spiral to be stopped by being thrust up against the wall as Derek kicked the door shut behind him.

A startled gasp got caught in her throat, but before she could object those familiar demanding lips were melded to hers. Dragging his hand over the flare of her hip and the curve of her waist, until he was gripping her neck with just enough pressure to make her head fall back and her own lips part. Giving him exactly what he wanted. What she needed.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him, ignoring the itchy material of his gown and the plastic IV tubing hanging from his arm as she brought him closer. Loving that consuming heat, she happily allowed herself to drown in it.

Her head slammed into the pale pink tile and she bit back a groan as that velvety slick muscle delved into her mouth. Swiping across every crevice and tasting her. Drawing her into him. It was wet, sloppy, teeth-clattering, nose-smooshing, desperation. Of missing each other – having not been able to touch or kiss in days – and stitching their open wounds back together as their hot breath washed over them and their fingers danced across skin. Rediscovering the dips and swells and hard divots of their bodies in a blind frenzy.

"Derek," she panted, eyes fluttering open, only to pull away, needing to stand on her tiptoes – her shoes making her feel so much shorter, tiny, almost fragile in front of him – so she could place hot, open-mouthed kisses across that chiseled jaw she loved so much. Oh, how she missed this. How she had spent the last few days filing away the memories of what this felt like, in fear that her shattered nerves would reveal their newfound intimacy. But this kiss was a simple reminder, and it tore open that beating chasm and flooded her senses with a fiery, deep-seated need to simply feel. Feel the man in front of her. Taste him. Smell him. Love him. "We can't…do this…here," a last, pitiful protest.

"Too late," he gritted out, hand sliding up beneath that soft knitted sweater, enjoying the feel of her cool skin beneath his palm.

She shivered as his fingers grazed satin, and he slowly traced the wide curve of her bra, until he cupped her ample breast in his large hand and tweaked the already puckered nipple shamelessly peeking through. Arching her back, pressing her chest into his hand, she let her own fingers dance up his side, though when she bumped his heavy sling, she froze.

Eyes shooting open, she tried to bat his hand away. "Wait, wait, stop…you're hurt."

"I can smell you from here," his dark, naughty words had her mouth falling open and slick heat pooling between her thighs. "You're gonna need to try a little harder, if you want to convince me to stop."

"B-But…" licking the back of her teeth, desperately trying to wet her parched tongue. "Your ribs. You can't…" casting her furtive gaze downward, unable to hide her smirk at his obvious arousal tenting the thin cotton of those hideous olive green boxers.

"This isn't about me right now," tugging her sweater, he licked a hot path across her collarbone and eagerly used those pearly white teeth to nip up her neck and suck on her plump earlobe. "This is for you."

Oh, of course, he would know the perfect thing to say.

Her manicured brows knit in confusion, only to shoot to her hairline when he made his message loud and clear by lifting her leg and hooking it over the corner of the small porcelain sink. Giving her a heated look, before cupping her center and rubbing his long, deft fingers over her swollen lower lips that had her legs shaking and hands shooting forward.

"Oh, shit!" she moaned, one hand clutching his shoulder as the other grasped the diagonal safety bar next to the shower.

"You want me to stop?" he teased; amber eyes swirling with a challenging glint, she dared not refuse.

Shaking her head, blinking away the stars that dazzled her vision, she let herself get lost in the overwhelming sensations.

He slid his hand further down her thigh and back up to her hip, playing with the soft material of her white floral printed leggings, until he snapped the elastic around her waist and slipped his hand inside.

Somehow through her lust fueled haze she managed to wonder how a man with so many injures could still appear so strong and powerful as he easily took her breath away. And then his fingers played with the tuft of trimmed curls above her dripping core, and she lost all semblance of thought and whimpered, only for him to go completely still and look down on her with hooded eyes.

"Pen," he heavily swallowed, blinking a few times to focus. "Where are your panties?"

She blushed, even as a coy, little grin twisted her full, pouty lips. "I need to do laundry," she shrugged and then wiggled in his grasp. If they were going to do this, then they needed to pick up the pace.

He growled and without giving her any time to adjust he slid those long fingers deep inside of her. Expertly, teasingly, he played with her slick heat. Spreading his fingers, crooking them at the perfect angle and pumping them in-and-out of her with that sweet, tantalizing pressure, that had her biting her lip to smother her heady grunts of approval.

"Oh, my stars and garters!" she shrieked, head thrashing across the cool tile as her body began to overheat and her limbs became lax. And then he did that thing. That oh-so-fucking-amazing-thing he had discovered drove her absolutely crazy their first night together. "Oh, _oh fuck_ …" that dark, knowing smirk crossed his face as he slid his fingers across each other. A scissoring motion that had her breathless pants filling the cramped bathroom. Then he placed his calloused thumb over her swollen clit and slowly circled it. "That feels, so fucking…good."

He only had one good arm and yet he had managed to bring her to the edge in just a few short minutes. Lowering his head, he tugged her bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on the supple flesh, only to dart his tongue out and quell the biting sting.

Releasing her tight grip on his shoulder she wrapped it around his neck and brought those deliciously filthy lips closer. Nails raking down the sinewy muscles of his neck, she giggled when he pressed himself against her. The stiff, aching member, hard and hot between his thighs, brushed against her lower belly, pulling a husky moan from her kissed-bruised lips. He rocked himself into her, pushing the heel of his palm roughly into her center, chuckling when her eyes rolled back and her hips bucked beneath him.

Feeling brazen or perhaps hearing the guttural need through his quick, panting breath, she reached between them and slipped a hand through the loose fabric of his boxers and found her prize. Wrapping a hand firmly around what felt like rigid steel enveloped in warm velvet, she became giddy with excitement which fueled her own arousal. Squirming as a gush of slick heat pooled between her thighs and all over his fingers buried deep within her. He growled, letting his forehead rest on hers as his eyes drifted close.

"Fuck," he gritted out, brows tightly furrowed as his face creased with concentration.

She fondled his heavy sac, hot within her small palm, before trailing her thumb slowly over them and giving it a generous squeeze. Taking her time, she traced the pulsing vein across his shaft, only to cup the head of his prick and swirl the sticky substance that had already leaked out, until his dark eyes snapped open and she smirked.

"There's my handsome boy," she purred, peppering his jaw with open-mouthed kisses. "Come for Mama," she began stroking him, adding that exquisite flick of the wrist that had him stumbling into her.

Oh, but it was Morgan, and he was never one to be out done. Spreading her legs further apart, he pressed himself deeper into her and found that bumpy patch of nerves and firmly swiped over it. Again, and again, and again. A taunting rhythm he had mastered long ago, which she greedily benefited from.

"Oh, fuck me!" she yelped in surprise, only to let out a slew of expletives, followed by nonsensical babbling. "Please, right there, please, don't stop…"

Not caring that this was perhaps a very inappropriate place to be finger blasted by her best friend-turned-boyfriend – ' _one, of your boyfriends!'_ shouted a derisive voice from the dark recesses of her mind. She cinched her eyes shut and arched her back; opening up for him, letting him in even deeper. Her sharp hiss turned into a feral grunt she hardly recognized as she did her best to turn her mind off and simply feel.

Derek, however, seemed to give two shits that he was fucking her in a hospital bathroom, as he took great pleasure in following her instructions, having not slowed his pace or stopped once.

"Oh, oh-kay…that's it…I'm-oh, shit yep, yep, yep…" she whined as that pinnacle of release swelled in the pit of her gut. A hot, curling heat that quaked with need and as his thumb pressed into her clit and harshly circled, she quickened her own frantic strokes, adding pressure, until a moment later they both toppled head first into bliss.

Her scream was muffled by his tongue delving into her mouth, and her hand clutched his broad shoulder, only for her nails to scratch an angry path down his chest. Leaving behind a vicious looking mark that neither one of them were yet coherent enough to worrying about explaining later.

Their kisses soon turned tender, and the buzzing noise swishing through her limbs hallowed out and left her weak and pleasantly light. Like the weight of the world had been temporarily lifted from her shoulders and she could finally breath freely again.

Derek grunted, using his gown to wipe off the sticky essence covering his thigh and her belly, before tucking himself back inside his boxers. "Damn," was all he could muster as he helped remove her leg from the sink, before running hot water.

Penelope slumped against the wall, briefly wondering why her vision was fuzzy, only to giggle when she had to straighten her skewed glasses.

"Well, I can cross that off…" arching a brow as she adjusted her sweater. "My second bucket list."

Wetting a washcloth, Derek looked up at her and grinned. "You have two bucket lists?"

"Mmhmm," she cooed, gasping when he placed the warm cloth between her legs and tenderly helped clean her up. "One for adventures. And another for… _other things_."

"I guess we'll have to work on crossing those things off," he quipped, waggling those expressive brows.

She laughed, a full belly laugh, before narrowing her gaze. "Oh, pity, I've crossed most of them off already. I mean…" playfully batting her long lashes. "I guess we could repeat some of them…"

Snapping her pretty leggings securely around her waist, he frowned. "You're a little shit you know that. Cute, but a little shit."

"Only cute?"

"And opinionated," giving her temple a gentle peck. "Stubborn," another one on her nose. "But smart," chuckling when she glared. "Very smart."

Pointing her nose in the air, she huffed in feign annoyance.

"And sexy as hell."

A bright grin covered her face and she gave him a sweet, little smooch on his cheek.

"You're not too shabby yourself, Mocha Thor," leaning in close, so her breath tickled his neck. "Even one handed. _You_ …" pressing a yellow tipped finger into his chest. "Exceed all expectations."

Derek shook his head and took a few wobbly steps back. "You feeling better?"

Patting her hair down, she delicately placed her braids back over her shoulders and nodded with renewed determination.

"Good," checking himself in the mirror. "You think you can settle down now and take a nap."

She was about to retort that she wasn't fond of being treated like a baby, when an abrupt series of knocks echoed around them.

Penelope screeched, throwing her arms out wide, almost knocking Derek over.

"Mr. Morgan," Doctor Bahl's stern voice, clipped with warning, echoed around them. "Ms. Garcia. When you two are finished getting dirty in the bathroom, I would like to speak with you."

' _Oh, my God!_ ' Penelope mouthed, before all color drained from her face.

"Do you think she heard us?" she hissed, doing her best to wiggle behind Derek and hide from view.

"Just the tail end," Sonya chirped; obvious amusement lacing her words. "Come on out you two. I have an update for you."

Derek looked a little uncomfortable, and was fumbling with tying his gown, when Penelope yanked the strings out of his hand and pulled it into a messy knot. She then hit the door handle and gave him a good shove forward.

Giving a curt nod, he looked straight ahead as he sat down on the bed. He then pulled the sheet up to his chest and took his time tucking in the edges and brushing off imaginary lint, leaving Penelope awkwardly standing in the doorway bouncing on her toes.

"Hi," giving a little wave, she bumped into the door, only to go and shut it – believing that if she hid the room where the naughty thing happened, then they could act like the naughty thing didn't happen – only for it to slip out of her shaking grasp and slam shut behind her.

"Don't worry you're not in trouble. Seeking pleasure during time of duress is a natural occurrence," Sonya smirked, twirling the ballpoint pen slowly between her lithe fingers. "Though, someone else might catch you next time. So, I wouldn't tempt fate twice."

Hazel eyes wide like a startled deer, Penelope went to stand on the other side of the room – distancing herself from the man who was just knuckles deep inside of her. She gulped and then plopped herself into the stiff plastic chair in the corner.

"What? Who, us?" she cackled with embarrassment. "Oh gosh, no of course not! I mean it was a one-time, hey-let's-forget-you-almost-died, spur-of-the-moment, sorta thing!" cringing as her hand flew over her mouth. "Not that we did that! Because _that_ would be totally crazy and wrong. On oh so many, many levels. But in case we had the thought to do the thing you think we did, then no…we won't…" taking a large gulp of air. "Do that thing…ever again," she prayed the floor would just open up and swallow her whole.

"Breathe, Penelope. Just breathe. In-and-out," Sonya rushed over to gently rub her shoulders and pat her back, and once everything had calmed down, she continued. "During Aaron's examination, I noticed his temperature had spiked significantly," tucking the pen back into her pocket. "He seems to be running a fever. We ran a few tests and as I suspected, he has pericarditis."

"Pericard-what-what?" Penelope's back went rigid. She didn't know what that was, but if she couldn't pronounce it, then it probably meant it was bad. Eyes darting around the room, wishing she had Reid's fount of knowledge to ease her mind with statistics.

"Simply put, during surgery he caught an infection and now the lining around his heart is inflamed and collecting fluid."

"Oh," fingers digging sharply into her thighs, she felt the remnants of her pleasure disappear as that looming dread seeped back into her bones.

"It's nothing that's going to require surgery. Though, we're going to monitor it and hook him up to some antibiotics and it should clear up on its own. But due to the added stress, I'm going to keep him under for another day."

"Oh," seemed to be the only thing Penelope could say.

"Penelope, he's doing fine. It's just a minor hitch that won't impede his recovery," crossing her arms, she set her shoulders and gave them both a wary look. "However, I am very concerned about his arm. It has yet to respond to any of the stimuli we've been administering."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Derek's gruff voice seemed booming in the suddenly claustrophobic room, and Penelope found herself holding her breath – waiting for the next bomb to drop.

"I suspect there may be significant, if not permanent, damage to the muscle," shifting her weight to her other leg, she tucked a loose lock behind her ear. "We won't know for certain until he wakes up. But I need you both, as well as your team, to be prepared for the worse. Aaron is in for a long recovery time, and he's going to need all the help he can get."

"Wait, what are you saying…if he can't use his arm, then what...what about his career?" Penelope stood up, eyes brimming with tears.

"I'm sorry, that's all I can give you right now. We can only wait and see. But I want you both to know that my team and I are doing everything we can for him," giving them a solemn smile, she absently fiddled with her stethoscope as her narrowed gaze flitted carefully over Derek. "Now, please stay in bed, and don't tear those stitches or bang up those ribs anymore. You're on strict bed rest until you're release tomorrow."

He nodded, and her pager went off, letting her have a quick goodbye before rushing back towards the ICU.

Time seemed to freeze and simultaneously speed up all at once, and Penelope found herself ignoring Derek's worried pleas as she mindlessly walked right out of the room and down the hall. Somehow, she ended up back in the Emergency Room, and the panic instantly began to set back in. Turning around a few times only for the flashing red exit sign to catch her attention.

Fumbling her way through the double doors, she took a few deep breaths of that crisp night air, eyes squinting as they took in the whirling flashes of red and blue from an incoming ambulance. Stepping aside, she meandered through the parking lot until she found an abandoned bench, right next to a trash can grossly filled to the rim with cigarette butts.

The ashy smell made her nauseous and she quickly lifted her sweater around her nose and deeply inhaled. Enjoying the soothing smell of fabric softer and her fruity perfume. Looking down she spotted her cellphone and without hesitation, she picked it up and hit number four on her speed dial.

 _Pick up, pick up, pick up…_

Pressing the device against her ear, she tensely waited for that low baritone voice to answer, and when it did she sobbed.

"Dave."

To be continued…


End file.
